Ripping Through Time
by Lucinda
Summary: A mistranslated spell sends Willow back to London, in the year 1888.  The consequences include serious changes to the Sunnydale present.   Answer to Knightie's Jack the Ripper challenge.  Slightly tweaked, and complete.
1. parts 1 to 6

Author: Lucinda  
  
Pairing: Willow/William (Spike), mention of Willow/Oz, Oz/Veruca, Spike/Dru, Dru/other  
  
Rating: PG 13 to be safe.  
  
Response to Knightie's Jack the Ripper challenge.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from Buffy The Vampire Slayer. I do not own the original timeline, although the twists and alterations of the new timeline are the products of my own mind, as are the details of the story. Jack the Ripper is a historical (if mysterious) figure. His true identity is unknown.  
  
Distribution: Bite Me, WLS, NHA, WWW, Knightie, anyone else please ask.  
  
note: Begins season 4, post Wild at Heart.  
  
note2: in order to create a slightly more consistent victim profile, this story will describe Mary Kelly (a Ripper victim) as having dark hair. Historically, she is recorded as a blonde. Apologies if this upsets anyone.)  
  
She could still see them every time she closed her eyes. Laying there in the cage, their bodies naked and showing faint bruises and scrapes, the sort that could have come from fighting or from extremely violent sex. A small cynical part of her wondered if it had been from both. If somehow, Oz's wolf had craved the violence contained in what had clearly taken place. If it was inevitable that she wouldn't be enough for him. Just like she had never been enough for anyone else in the past. She had never been pretty enough for Xander to notice her until she had been dating Oz. When he had finally noticed her, it had nearly been the death of his girlfriend Cordelia, literally.  
  
Xander had finally noticed that his 'bestest bud Wills' was actually a girl. Their stolen kisses had lead to Willow trying to cast a de-lusting spell, which had meant that Spike had happened to see her in the magic store and had happened to decide to kidnap her and Xander because his insane girlfriend had dumped his bleached blond sorry... well, Dru had left him, and he had decided to kidnap her and Xander. She was supposed to cast a love spell on Dru, and Xander was Spike's insurance. If the spell didn't work, he had threatened to kill Xander. Spike had gone out claiming he would get the ingredients for the spell, and while he was gone, Xander had decided that they should have one last kiss before dying. Predictably, that was right when the rescue party of Oz and Cordelia had arrived. Cordelia had fallen through the floor and been impaled on a metal bar. Spike, having accidentally broke up Willow and Xander's relationships, deliberately taunted and mocked Buffy and Angel's tension filled relationship, had left town. With any luck, he had managed to torture Dru back into his arms and bed, so that at least someone had ended up happy.  
  
Xander was miserable now. He and Cordelia had tried, or at least Xander had, but Cordelia had left town after graduation, moving to Los Angeles where she had intended to become a famous actress, to be richer and more influential than her parents had ever been. Xander was now living in his parent's basement. He was lonely and miserable, and he still had his hopeless crush on Buffy, and had managed to forget that Willow had once had a hopeless crush on him.  
  
Buffy had lost Angel, and the comfort that he'd given her. The souled vampire had left town because he feared that Buffy was too much temptation for him. He was afraid that if he stayed, their passion would grow to powerful to resist, and he would loose his soul, again. Fearing that possibility, Angel had also left Sunnydale. Willow suspected that he was in Los Angeles as well. If she concentrated on him, she could get a vague idea of how he was, if he was injured, or feeling a particularly strong emotion. It had to be a residual effect of her restoring his soul. She hadn't told him. Angel felt like he was brooding and miserable. It matched her mood perfectly. Pain, guilt, despair, loneliness.... well, maybe not quite as much guilt and a bit more betrayal, but the general feeling was the same.  
  
Oz had become fascinated with this female singer for another band. The band had been called Shy, of all the misleading things in the world. He had watched her, wholly focused on Veruca in a way that he'd never focused on Willow. She'd felt hurt, and confused, and jealous. Then, she had found them together. Naked. Reeking of sex. Their naked bodies entwined together. And had she mentioned the naked?  
  
It had been far simpler dealing with Veruca trying to kill her. Simpler to deal with Oz trying to kill her after killing the Veruca wolf in front of her. That had been simple, fear and dreadful anticipation of pain, and the morbid curiosity of wondering if the wolf would eat her mangled corpse if given enough time. Fear was easy to deal with. Helping Buffy had given her a lot of experience with fear.  
  
But Oz hadn't even wanted to stay, to try to see if what they'd had could be fixed or rebuilt. He had left, not even telling her goodbye. He was just... gone, with only his things as a sign that he'd ever been. Then those were gone as well. He'd contacted Devon to have his things sent, and hadn't contacted her, hadn't even asked Devon to relay a message, even one as simple as 'I'm alive.' She simply hadn't been important enough to him to care.  
  
Which brought her back to the present. She was lying on her bed, feeling as if her pain and betrayal and misery had ripped out her insides, as if everything happy and bubbly and good had been torn out and should be staining the floor in a gruesome puddle below her, like some sort of psychic disembowelment. She felt as if she had been flattened, and she didn't have the energy to move from her bed. Why bother? What was there out there for her? She had no classes tonight, no date... or any prospects of a date ever again in her future. She could just lay here and be miserable until tomorrow at nine.  
  
There was a knock at the door. It was firm, insistent. It didn't go away when she ignored it.  
  
With a small sigh, Willow decided that whoever it was obviously wasn't going to go away. "Come in."  
  
The door was practically kicked off of the hinges. The doorway was momentarily filled with a silhouette of a man with pale hair that almost looked like it glowed from the harsh light of the hallway. He came into the room in what could only be described as stalking.  
  
She was feeling something besides pain now. Willow felt a trace of fear, cold as rejection and ice trickle down her spine and towards her fingers. Spike was in her dorm-room. "S-s-spike.." She had meant it to be a scream, but it had come out a stammered whisper instead.  
  
"I got a message for your friend the Slayer. I didn't like the hospitality that her commando friends gave me. I'm a bit annoyed by it actually." He was stalking towards Willow, and there was an undertone of growl in his voice. He moved towards her, his face shifting to feral vampire features. "You got a choice now Red. I'm going to kill you. But, you can stay dead, or I can bring you back."  
  
With a sudden flash of understanding, Willow knew that he intended to kill her. Part of her wondered if that would be such a bad idea, but more from habit than anything else, she protested. "I'll scream..."  
  
He smiled, and the faint light seemed to glitter on his sharp teeth. "Bonus."  
  
That was when things got confusing. He lunged towards her, his fingers seizing her arm with bruising force, and his teeth grazed over her throat. As his fingers closed over her arm, Willow shrieked, and Spike reached out with his other hand, turning up the radio in an effort to drown out her scream. Then, things fell apart. Instead of tearing Willow's throat open and gulping down her hot and terrified blood, Spike howled in pain and his legs gave out, causing him to topple over, effectively pinning Willow to the bed.  
  
In those few panic filled moments of super clarity, Willow noticed just how nicely muscled Spike was. How well all of his parts fit together, and his scent, leather and a hint of cigarettes and something else that could only be Spike. She found herself thinking how smooth his pale skin looked, and wondering if his skin would taste salty if she licked him. Would his mouth taste of blood? She had no idea why she was suddenly looking at Spike as an attractive male instead of as the vampire trying to rip her throat out. Then, he collapsed onto her, and the first thing that Willow noticed was... err... That was nicely put together too, and it was pressing into her hip most firmly.  
  
As Willow's hormones completely ignored both logic and heartache to catalog every single muscular plane of Spike's body, to inhale his scent, her mind realized something. He hadn't actually bit her. She'd felt his fangs, but he hadn't broken her skin.  
  
"It's me, isn't it?" Her voice was a painful whisper.  
  
He looked at her, his eyes blue again. "What do you mean?"  
  
"It's okay, I guess. You weren't really looking for me anyhow. You were looking for Buffy, just like everyone else. But she wasn't here, so you were going to settle. I'm just not the kind of girl that vamps want to sink their teeth into I guess...." Willow's words had trailed off into a pain filled whisper, and tears threatened to fall through her lashes.  
  
Spike looked at her, and suddenly realized that this young woman really believed that he didn't want to bite her. "Nonsense. I'd bite you in a heartbeat. Thought about it last year, when you were in that lilac number and the fuzzy sweater."  
  
Willow looked up, her eyes glittering with what could develop into hope. "Really? I never would have guessed."  
  
With an expression that was almost his usual arrogant smirk, Spike spoke again. "I hate being all fangy and 'grr'. It takes all the mystery out."  
  
"Oh. You played it pretty cool then." She glanced over his close fitting shirt, and found herself blushing. She looked at a loose thread on the blanket. "You could... umm... try again if you wanted."  
  
With a feral grin, his features again shifted, and he lunged at her throat, his teeth actually leaving little raised lines where they scraped over her skin, and Willow felt herself shiver in mostly fear and a little bit of something else. But again, Spike made this little whimper, and collapsed, clutching his head as if it hurt.  
  
"What did they do to me?" His whisper was filled with pain and confusion. "I can't do it."  
  
"Doesn't this happen to every vampire?" Willow felt this odd urge to comfort Spike. It clearly wasn't his fault that he couldn't bite her.  
  
"Not to me. This shouldn't be happening." Spike's voice carried the undertones of shock, denial, and disbelief.  
  
"Well, we could try again if you wanted..." Willow's voice was low, and soft, as if the words had slipped out without her thinking about what she was actually saying.  
  
"Really? Well then..." With those words, Spike again lunged at her throat.  
  
Willow felt a sharp jolt of fear run through her. His fangs scraped over her throat again, and she could feel little welt lines raise, and feel the faint dampness left from his mouth. Her stomach was fluttering with mostly fear, and a little hint of anticipation. If she was going to die, at least Spike was an attractive... he still hadn't bit her. Fear and years of working with the Slayer rose up, and Willow pushed Spike back, away from her throat.  
  
Suddenly, the lights went out, and she heard her door get kicked open yet again. There was a dark figure moving towards her, not Spike, but someone or something else. She grabbed the lamp by her bed, throwing it at the figure's head, and both she and Spike bolted for the door, and she distinctly recalled stepping on the midsection of another figure. The hallway was filled with smoke, and she lost track of Spike in the confusion.  
  
end part 1.  
  
Spike hadn't been able to kill her. Oz was still gone, and there was still no message from him, no anything, as if the earth had opened up and swallowed him whole. Xander and Buffy had both decided that they were tired of hearing about it, tired of hearing about how much it hurt that Oz was gone. Giles... he was to much of a father figure for Willow to feel comfortable pouring out her heart about how her lover had betrayed her, killed the trampy female that he'd cheated on her with and vanished. She couldn't talk about that to Giles, and even if her own parents had been in California, they were practically strangers to her now. They probably didn't realize that she was in college, might not even remember that she had a boyfriend to have cheat on her and run away. Willow had no way to ease her pain.  
  
She was absently flipping through a book, pretending to search for information of a Bekanit demon, or was that Becadit? At the moment, she wasn't certain that she could muster the enthusiasm to care. Another demon wanting to slaughter lots of people to be able to claim it was the biggest and baddest thing that could go bump in the night. She should care about it, really. She sighed, realizing once again that she just couldn't quite see past her pain to worry about the possibility that some nasty, evil demon might be seeking it's next victim at this very moment. Buffy would find it, and kill it, and then expect Willow to listen about how demons were inconsiderate enough to bleed or ooze onto her new clothing. Why Buffy didn't just wear old clothing out to slay was entirely beyond Willow. Maybe some hold over from her nights of stolen smoochies with Angel on patrols?  
  
Willow sighed, feeling a fragment of annoyance at the Slayer. Buffy didn't want to hear about Willow's pain anymore, saying that Oz had been gone for almost two weeks now, she should be getting over it by now. Then, she would turn around and mope about Angel, who had left almost four months ago, and how it still hurt so badly that he was gone, how she didn't think anything would ever be the same. It made Willow feel oddly understanding of all the demons that wanted to kill Buffy. Except that she knew she didn't have a chance for it, after all, she was human, entirely human and with only her feeble human strength. There would be no contest between her and Buffy. Instead, she had started to practice the delicate art of ignoring someone while appearing to pay attention. Buffy hadn't figured it out yet, although that could be a sign of Buffy's obliviousness as easily as Willow's successful pretense.  
  
There was a pounding on the door of Giles apartment. Willow found herself looking at the door, filled with a vague foreboding, a sense that once the door was opened, something would be set into motion, something important, something that would change everything. She felt her mouth go dry, and her body began to tremble, and even as Giles opened the door blinking at the blanket wrapped figure on his step, she knew who it was. She knew that it was Spike, come to try once more to do what he had intended that night in the dorm, to try to kill Buffy. A small part of her felt a pang, as if the simple fact that she meant nothing to him hurt deeply.  
  
Something was wrong. Why was Spike wrapped in a blanket? Not only that, but it looked tattered, dirty, and scorched, and either the blanket was very thin, or Spike had lost weight. The blanket slipped down from his head, and she couldn't help but gasp at the sight of him. His skin had been pale like porcelain before, now it was waxy, and his cheeks were gaunt, his eyes gleaming with rage and pain from dark shadows, sunk into his skull. He looked as if he had wasted away, shriveling until he resembled one of the ancient preserved mummies from the history channel programs. Or one of Ampata's victims.  
  
"I need you to reverse this, Damn it! This is a level of cruelty that I thought Slayers and the bloody Council were above." Spike's voice held a harsh rasp that was different from how his voice had sounded before. It sounded almost dry, as if something were grating inside. It still carried anger and pain, and an undercurrent of desperation.  
  
Giles stood there, staring at the gaunt vampire on his doorstep. "I have no idea what you are talking about! I haven't done anything to you, nor do I know of any specific cruelty to you."  
  
"Then why can't I feed!?! You had to have done this!" Spike's voice was louder.  
  
Xander glanced around, voicing his opinion. "I think it's an act. He's evil, he's got to be faking it."  
  
Willow spoke, her voice slightly hoarse from the many tears she had been shedding, not so much about Oz leaving her, but for her own pain and loneliness. "No, he's not."  
  
"What?" Giles' bafflement was clear.  
  
"He's not faking it. He came to the dorms on the night the power went out. He tried to bite me, said something about a message for Buffy. He couldn't do it. Something wouldn't let him. Besides, why would he let himself get that shriveled if all he wanted to do was kill Buffy? Wouldn't it make more sense to just throw a horde of minions at her on patrol to wear her down, and then get her while she's tired and wounded?" Willow had to defend Spike. She wasn't quite certain why, perhaps the same baffling reason that had caused her to offer to let him try to bite her again in the dorms, but she felt the need to defend him. Besides, anyone should be able to tell that a vampire so starved as to be that gaunt was a weakened vampire. Why try to attack your enemy at such a disadvantage?  
  
"What!! That bleached blond freak was in our room!?! And you didn't tell me! Willow! What were you thinking?" Buffy's voice had a shrill edge of disbelief.  
  
Willow rolled her eyes slightly. "He knocked on the door, I sort of accidentally invited him in, and he tried to bite me. He couldn't do it. The power went out, and these strange things, I think guys in masks came in, and I panicked, ran out, and Spike was gone. You didn't want to hear about why I was upset, remember?"  
  
Giles looked at her, his eyes worried. "What do you mean? How could you accidentally invite him? What, did you accidentally say, oh, do come in, Spike? How could he not bite you?"  
  
Spike staggered through the doorway, swaying on his feet. "Bloody hell... what did you do to me?"  
  
Xander stared at the vampire behind Giles, his mouth opening and closing, a few pitiful squeaks emerging.  
  
Willow watched with an even expression. "Giles, you just accidentally invited him in yourself. Xander's trying to say that he's behind you."  
  
Spike was in fact behind Giles, his features amber eyed and fanged, and he moved towards Giles in what could have been a lunge or simply falling, and ended up on the ground, curled in pain, clutching his head and growling obscenities. Giles made a noise that sounded oddly like a squeak, and stepped back.  
  
Willow stood up, and was actually kneeling beside Spike before it had fully registered with he others, or actually to herself that she had even moved. She brushed her hand over his temple, feeling how fragile and dry his skin was. It reminded her of dry aged parchment, not the almost silken smoothness that she remembered from the dorm. His scent was the same though, leather and cigarettes and Spike. She ran her fingers over his forehead, brushing his hair, with had become tangled and had bits of things caught in it. "Spike? Is it the same thing that happened in the dorm room? The same thing that happened when you tried to bite me?"  
  
"Yeah. Feels like my skull has a bloody lightning storm going through it. Be a hell of a lot simpler to just split it open and be done with it. Just stake me already and let it be over with." His voice was a harsh whisper, as if he couldn't even bear the sound of a normal voice. A single red tear slipped from the eye next to the floor, trickling out of his eye and into his hair.  
  
She looked at him, her face filled with sympathy. "I'm sorry. But, Spike, I really don't think that Buffy or Giles had anything to do with whatever's happened to you. Buffy... she'd rather just stake first, and complain about dust and bloodstains on her cloths later, and Giles wouldn't have been so surprised about your arrival if he'd had any idea about something preventing you from feeding."  
  
end part 2.  
  
There had been what had seemed like hours of debate, endless arguing over the idea that something might have happened to render Spike unable to bite people. Xander still thought that it was some sort of devious trick. Buffy was in favor of simply killing Spike now while they had the chance. Giles wanted to know who had done this, since it hadn't been any of them, how it had been done, and what purpose it had served. Anya kept reminiscing about particularly painful sounding vengeance wishes that she had granted when she had still had her powers, some of which actually had a connection to vampires or starvation. While they were debating, Willow managed to get Spike up from the floor, and while everyone else was so busy arguing, she helped him into Giles' bathroom so that he could get himself cleaned up. She promised to find him something clean to change into.  
  
She had found a pair of jeans and a plain white tee shirt, along with a belt in Giles' things that she thought Spike could borrow. The fit would probably be a bit off, but they were clean, which was more than she could say for what he'd been wearing when he arrived. Those things were filthy, including Spike's leather coat, something that she knew he prized, at least as much as he prized any possession. Gingerly, she emptied out his pockets, throwing the jeans, socks and two shirts into the washer, with a generous amount of detergent. Spike apparently didn't believe in underwear, which started part of Willow's mind off along several naughty tangents that had absolutely nothing to do with whatever had prevented him from feeding.  
  
Part of her mind was thinking naughty thoughts about Spike and his lack of underwear. Part of her was thinking naughty thoughts about Spike, naked in the shower, water cascading over his body... A more practical part was debating where to take his leather coat for cleaning, and then she found her attention drawn back to the loud debate over Spike, currently going on between Buffy, Xander and Giles, With Anya muttering something about a man she had once cursed to shrivel and loose weight every time he had sex with someone that wasn't his cast-aside wife, and how he had suffered and wasted away. The intensity of the debate was quite alarming to willow, and she felt panic at the idea of Spike dying, or being killed. It was quite unreasonable, especially since he had only tried to kill her in the past. She heard the shower stop, and her mind painted a vivid image of him stepping from the tub, his pale flesh glistening with water, reaching for a towel, his muscles rippling under smooth flesh... an image that was chased away by her recollection of just how thin he had looked earlier. He wouldn't have the same sleek planes of muscle that she had felt in the dorm room. He had lost weight, and had looked almost dried. They would have to help him. She would have to help him.  
  
Quite suddenly, it occurred to Willow that while she was thinking about how to help Spike, her own pain seemed less, almost manageable instead of the overwhelming tide of pain that she was used to. Perhaps, if she helped Spike, it would help her as well. It wasn't as if anything else was helping, or as if she had a large number of people willing to listen to her pain. More accurately, she had nobody, although it was just possible that Spike might be willing to at least pretend to listen in exchange for shelter and blood. She had to find a way to have him stay. Some reason other than her own desires... no, not those desires! Hadn't she already learned about falling for guys who didn't know she was a girl? Hadn't she learned her lesson with Xander? Then, inspiration struck.  
  
"Everyone, I think we need to help him."  
  
The result was chaotic noise and confusion. Buffy and Xander were demanding to know if she had flipped, Giles was wanting to know why she felt that they should support a homicidal vampire, and Anya was wanting to know if the lack of orgasms had caused Willow to slide into irrational behavior.  
  
"Everyone! If you will just shut up, I can explain!" Willow's near shout was full of frustration and annoyance. Everyone fell into stunned silence, staring at her in shock. Even Spike, who was just emerging from the bathroom, now dressed in Giles clothing, which was hanging loosely on his lean frame.  
  
"Can we all accept the fact that he isn't faking? That for some reason, Spike really can't bite people? Okay, good, moving right along, someone has rendered a two hundred year old master vampire unable to feed, thus causing him pain and starvation. We have no idea who did this or how, and even less idea of what their ultimate goal is. Are you all still with me?" She had shifted modes, going from pitiful heartbroken Willow to taking charge Willow. Her tone left no room for argument, and there was an unmistakable impression that opposing opinions would not be tolerated.  
  
The Scoobies found themselves shifting uncomfortable, uncertain how to react to this new aspect of Willow. Spike was watching in amazement, and a bit relieved that this red haired chit was unexpectedly on his side. Giles was the one who actually spoke coherent words instead of quiet and confused mumblings. "Ahhh.. That does about sum things up."  
  
Willow nodded, still projecting confidence and authority. "So that means that we have no idea what sort of plan the being or beings responsible have, and that means that without further information, we have no idea what sort of victim profile they have. They might intend to go after Buffy, which we wouldn't want. They might have some plan to use anyone that they alter with this... whatever they did to Spike. The only one here that might have any information about the responsible parties is Spike, and if we send him out to starve to death, we will know nothing, and have no idea what to do if whoever was responsible moves after Buffy. Do you want that? Or Xander, what if the next thing you knew, you woke up unable to eat? No pizza, no doughnuts, no popcorn... nothing. Major pain any time you tried. You would want answers, and a solution. Spike is in that situation, except that it might be more like no pizza delivery boys, and no.. umm off topic. Spike needs answers, and we are going to help figure them out."  
  
With some uncertainty, it was decided that Spike would have to stay at Giles' apartment. They would find him some clothing that actually fit, and pick up some blood for him at Willies, or possibly the slaughterhouse. Spike had made a few expressions of dismay at those ideas, making it clear that he did not feel those were the same as fresh blood, straight from a terrified mortal, but he didn't have any options. Willow went forth to get him blood, and she very carefully added a measured amount of liquid morphine that Giles had in his medical supplies to the blood before handing it to Spike.  
  
He sniffed it, and frowned slightly. "What's in it, Red? It smells a bit different."  
  
She blushed slightly, feeling awkward again now that the crisis point had passed. "umm I sort of.. I got into Giles' medical supplies. You were in pain... I remember how much it seemed to hurt you in the dorm. So, umm Giles had morphine. I thought it might sort of dull the pain for a while."  
  
Spike made a small face, showing a mixture of dismay and amusement. "So, I couldn't hide that from you. Hasn't anyone told you that you're supposed to be too afraid to notice the details? umm.. it was a nice thought though. Should work even. Nobody's ever... this is a first, Red."  
  
Willow gave a small smile, her eyes filling with tears despite her best efforts. "Well, I figured that there might be something that could be done about your pain. Why leave someone suffering if you can stop it?"  
  
They just sat there for a while, pondering their separate pains as Giles tried to figure out how to determine who or what could have incapacitated Spike in such an unusual manner. They didn't realize how similar their postures were; both slumped against the wall, practically drooping with pain and despair.  
  
end part 3.  
  
  
  
Over the next week, things began settling into a sort of routine. Willow would pick up blood for Spike at the slaughterhouse, and bring it over to Giles apartment. She would find Spike chained or tied, and left lying in the bathtub. He would look somewhere between bored and angry, possibly with a hint of something else, something that Willow was choosing to interpret as frustration and despair. Every evening when she arrived, it would be the same ritual.  
  
Willow would walk into the bathroom, carrying a cooler filled with cow's blood, since Spike had said that the blood of cattle was slightly better than the blood of pigs. She would look at him, and give a little smile, and offer him a greeting. "Hey Spike."  
  
Spike would look at her, and pull his features from the look of bored frustration into a semblance of a smile. "Red. Care to let me out? I can feed myself that way, even if it's just holding me own cup."  
  
Every evening, Willow would consider the idea, and every evening she came to the same conclusion. Spike couldn't hurt her. She was so broken inside that she wasn't certain she would care if he suddenly regained the ability. The pain wasn't fading the way everyone said it would. So, she would tilt her head slightly, and say the same words every evening. "You have to behave."   
  
Spike would make a slight grimace, as if to point out that he couldn't not behave. Willow would untie the ropes, or unlock the chains, and carefully place them on the floor, allowing Spike to move, and stretch his arms. He would stretch his arms out, exposing just a hint of muscled lean stomach, and mutter a soft "Thanks, Red."  
  
Willow would hand him his Styrofoam containers of blood, and he would drink them, and while he drank, he would ask Willow to tell him about her day. He normally looked far more interested in the blood than her day, but he would let her talk about things, how her classes had been, the weather, class assignments, the pain she felt every time something reminded her of Oz. Spike would sit there, his head occasionally nodding, and his eyes, blue or amber, would be focused on Willow. He looked as if he was listening, even if he was simply humoring her in order to keep a steady supply of blood.  
  
With the regular amounts of blood that Willow brought him, Spike was regaining weight, and he now looked more like the vampire that had been after the Gem of Amara, instead of the wasted figure that had turned up on Giles' steps. He still didn't know why he couldn't feed, couldn't even try to hurt the living. Particularly violent thoughts even seemed to kick off whatever was happening to him. Willow had concluded that he didn't seem to be under the influence of a spell, and there was no detectable curse. That led Willow to suspect that the source of his problem was of some sort of technological origin. He told her about the camouflaged figures that had struck him down with a taser. How he had awakened in some sort of strange place, all white tile and concrete, with bright lights. About the rows of gleaming white cells, some of which had held other vampires, or a few other human sized demons. How he had escaped past more of the camouflaged men, people that had looked human, seemed to be very organized. How he had gone from there and over to the dorm, thinking to repay the Slayer for his experience.  
  
Spike would then find himself sitting near Willow, pretending to research. Willow would be instructed to keep an eye on him, as if Spike were a particularly troublesome small child that might wander off into trouble. Willow would then nod seriously at the charge, and pretend not to see the various expressions from Spike. He would stick his tongue out at Giles, or Buffy, make horrible faces at their backs while nobody but Willow was looking. If anyone glanced over, he would seem to be looking at the pages of one of the books of demons. Willow often found herself smiling at his antics, and he would occasionally look over and smirk at her before making a particularly amusing face at someone. Willow wasn't quite certain why Spike would make such strange faces at the others, but perhaps he was simply bored. She could imagine how dull it would be to simply stay in a bathtub all day, with nothing to read, nothing to watch, and absolutely nothing to do but ponder his pain and misery.  
  
Then, one evening as Buffy was darting off to 'patrol' wearing this new little black dress, and Xander had vanished with Anya for what Anya had cheerfully said would be 'many orgasms', Spike looked over at Willow. She had lost weight, and there were still the dark circles under her eyes. She was still pouring out her days to him over his evening blood.  
  
"So, Red, why don't your pals listen to you talk about your day?" He sounded slightly curious.  
  
She shrugged half-heartedly. "They got tired of me feeling sorry for myself. They think I should be over it by now, or at least stop talking about it so much."  
  
Spike had been quiet for a while, apparently thinking about something before speaking again. "Red, you're the resident witch here. Is there some sort of spell or something that you could do to help heal? Take away some of the pain or something?"  
  
Willow had looked at him, her eyes wide with surprise. "I never thought about that. I suppose... I could look through Giles books. Maybe he has something that I can use. Thanks, Spike."  
  
She had spent the rest of the evening searching through Giles' books on magic. She wanted to see if there was something that could help her. Not a spell to make Oz come back, but something to take the pain away, or numb it a little bit. Finally, she found a few things that each sounded like they had a bit of what she was looking for. Maybe she could combine them into a spell to help her?  
  
end part 4.  
  
Willow took two of the books back to the dorm with her, with three spots book marked. She was considering this as carefully as any research paper that she had done. Spike had raised a good point. She was the witch, she had the magical power to accomplish a great many things. Why not look and see if there was some way that magic could help her? Her friends were certainly of no help at all. Spike had helped more in a week than everyone else had in three. He had listened, or at least seemed like he was listening, and he didn't just tell her to 'get over it'. He said that he understood why it hurt. He'd suggested painful tortures that she could inflict on 'mutt-boy' if he ever came back to Sunnydale. Maybe Spike felt sympathy for her pain, maybe he didn't like Oz, or maybe he just liked the idea of torturing someone. She didn't really know, and at the moment, it didn't matter.  
  
She settled onto her narrow dorm bed, flipping through the pages, taking notes on the sections that she thought would help. She made a listing of the ingredients that would be needed, referencing which spells called for what items. She would need a protective ward enclosing her workspace, one drawn with salt and fire... hmm, would candles spaced around her work for that? A powder to burn as an offering to certain powers as a gift, to make them more favorably inclined towards granting her what she asked. She would be able to ask for what she wanted, anything. She just had to put it into Greek. The downside of that was that Willow didn't have a firm grip of the Greek language. She would have to plan out her desire in English, and then find a way to translate it into Greek for the ritual. Preferably with enough caution that even if it didn't go quite as she wanted, it would still be okay.  
  
Willow tapped her pencil against her lip gently as she thought about that. 'What do I want? Two weeks ago, I would have asked for Oz back. But I don't know if that's really what I want. If he cheated on me once, how am I to know that he wouldn't do it again? Two weeks ago, I would have said that I wished he'd never met Veruca, but she was dangerous, and I obviously wasn't enough to keep him happy. If I just say that I never want to hurt like this again, I could simply be struck dead, no more heartbreak. What I want... what do I really want?  
  
Images of Spike leaped into her head, his smooth skin like porcelain, his cheekbones, the muscular planes of his body, the feeling of his body pressing hers into the bed... this very bed. His lips and teeth grazing over her throat... Her mind took those memories and changed them, imagining that he hadn't been trying to kill her, that he had wanted her, that he had found her attractive, desirable. That he had wanted to have her, to memorize every inch of her skin. To taste him on her lips, to see his eyes filled with passion and know that she had caused that look...  
  
Reality intruded. Yes, Spike was gorgeous, sexy and totally desirable. It didn't matter; he wouldn't want her like that. Using some sort of spell to make him want her when he really didn't would be cheating, and hollow, and when it ended... all sorts of bad things would happen. He would be furious, and with perfectly just cause. Everyone else would be angry and disappointed. After all, how pathetic would it be to use magic to make someone want to have sex with you?  
  
She just wanted to move past this pain. For her time of painful agonizing loss and misery to be over. To heal enough that she could realistically consider moving on, to consider opening her heart to someone again, instead of simply indulging herself in rampant sexual fantasy about Spike. Which was nice, but not helping her pain go away, or at least, not very much. Especially since he would never really look at her that way.  
  
Wait... to move past this pain. She could use the spell to ask that she move past her pain, to speed the healing process. It wouldn't make anyone feel a certain way towards her, wouldn't force anyone else to feel or do things that they didn't really want. It would just be affecting herself. What harm could that do?  
  
Finally, after several efforts and scratched out phrasings, she had her request phrased just right: help me to move past this time of pain. With the proper calling on suitable powers, and of course, there were several places where she vowed that she sought only good through this spell, and asked harm on none. She could even find most of the ingredients at Giles' shop. So, she was ready now for the hard part, which would be translating her request into Greek.  
  
The next day, she had no classes for college. She spent the time preparing the powder, and managed to find enough sea salt and candles to make a decent sized circle around herself. She would cast it in Giles' basement, it was quiet, fairly open, and nobody ever went there. Right, remember to get Spike his blood first, and then go cast your spell. Giles will still be at his shop, Buffy has a date, Xander has a job... she had the whole afternoon free for her spell. It shouldn't take more than an hour, tops. Then, she would be able to start living again.  
  
She was feeling hopeful as she walked up to Giles house, the large cooler of blood heavy in her arms. She managed to unlock the door and stagger inside the apartment, which was oddly silent. She put the books on the table, not realizing that her pages of careful notes were still inside the front cover of the top volume. Then, she carried the cooler into the bathroom for Spike. He was stretched out in the tub, looking uncomfortable in a pair of handcuffs looped around the faucet. Willow smiled slightly as she unlocked his wrists. He moved in his sleep, pulling his arms down and rolling onto his side, muttering something about 'crimson cascades', 'jeweled passion' and 'burning for you, sweet...' in his voice, passion and lust thickening his voice, adding just a hint of a growl.  
  
Willow could feel herself blushing as she left the room. Spike was obviously having a very interesting dream. She found herself remembering how she could see him, his lean form in the dark jeans, his skin a contrast, the outline of his... down, Willow! She told herself that he wouldn't have been dreaming about her. She had left him free, and the cooler was filled and sitting in the bathroom, under the sink where he would easily see it, and nobody would accidentally knock it over. Willow was still trying to get her thoughts in order, that hint of growl had done all sorts of naughty things to her.  
  
Carefully, she cast her protective circle, asking that she be protected from harm within its space. She lit the candles with a flicker of power, smiling as the golden flames leapt into being, dancing and swaying in time with her breathing. She poured the powder into a bowl carved from stone, and began her chanting, asking wisdom, protection and guidance from various powers. She then began the actual request, a small part of her hoping that she had translated everything properly. At the right time, she lit the powder, letting the faintly sweet smoke rise over her. It curled around, staying within her circle, and thickened, filling the ward and obscuring her view. Then, Willow felt herself falling, and the air was cold and damp.  
  
She barely had time to register the cold dampness of the air, the smells of dirt and fish and rotting trash before she landed on someone, the lean muscular planes of his body feeling oddly familiar. Willow was certain that this was not Sunnydale any longer. She looked at the face of the person that she had landed on, seeing soft brown curls, and sharply angled cheekbones, startled blue eyes. She knew this face, but his hair was different, and he lacked the scar over his eyebrow. His leather duster was nowhere to be seen.  
  
"Spike..." Willow could feel her head spinning. She had just landed on Spike. Except that he looked different. He was definitely a vampire, but... brown hair? No scar or duster... how could this be?  
  
"I don't think we've met before, Red. Not to many witches I know, and none of them normally go around throwing themselves at vampires. Now, get the hell off me! And the name's William." His accent was slightly different, less harsh. It actually reminded Willow of Giles in an odd sort of way.  
  
Carefully, Willow managed to disentangle herself from the vampire. "What are you doing here? I mean, you were just... and your hair was different."  
  
"If you must babble these questions at me, I'm looking for Dru. She got separated in the fog, and I don't want her to get lost." He sounded annoyed. Then, with an oddly familiar grin, he reached out, his hand moving almost too quickly for Willow's eyes to follow.  
  
He was gripping her by her throat, too tightly for her to scream, but just barely loose enough that she could breath. "You got two choices. You can either help me find Dru, or you can be my dinner date tonight." He smiled at her with sharp fangs, his eyes golden and almost glittering in the dim light.  
  
Willow could feel her heart racing, feel it throbbing in her wrists, her temples, behind her eyes. She nodded slightly, and his grip loosened just a little bit, enough that she could speak. "I'll help you find Drusilla. But... where are we, and which way do you think that she went?"  
  
He growled slightly, releasing Willow suddenly, which caused her to stagger. "This is London, of course. November tenth, in the year Eighteen Eighty Eight, if you need to know that as well. I think she had said something earlier about visiting the dirty chapel, so I'm guessing that she went towards Whitechapel."  
  
Willow frowned to herself, wondering how this had happened. London? She had somehow cast herself into London, over a century in the past? There had been something important about that year, something historical and significant, but she couldn't quite recall what it was. Perhaps it would come to her later. While she helped Spike, well apparently he was still William the Bloody, searching for his insane lover, the object of his eternal devotion. She was causing him unhappiness and worry even back in this century. Why exactly did he even want her back? Willow decided not to ask that question, it would probably make him mad.  
  
end part 5.  
  
Willow followed the vampire out of the alley. She wasn't certain quite where they were in London, and even if he had given her the exact street name, it wouldn't have helped. Willow had never been in London before, never even left America. Now, she was in a bad section of London, in the wrong century, and her only company was the earlier version of the vampire that had invaded her fantasies. The vampire that was also hopelessly obsessed with his insane sire/sister, however the actual relationship worked. Had it actually been Dru or Angelus that had turned him? If it had been Dru, perhaps that was why Dru had such a hold over him.  
  
She sighed, wondering exactly how this had happened to her. There were really only two possibilities that occurred. Either the Hellmouth had warped her spell to do something else, or she had mis-translated her request. She really had to take a course in Greek if... no, when she got back to Sunnydale. That way, at least it wouldn't be her fault if any more spells went wacky on her. She was getting better, really she was, but sometimes her spells just didn't do quite what she had intended.  
  
"Can you do something useful, or are you just going to trail after me like bait?" His voice was impatient, and there was a hint of frustration and worry underneath.  
  
"I figured that as soon as you get us somewhere that we can stop for a minute, I could cast a locating spell. I can't cast it while I'm walking." Willow tried not to snap at him. Her fingers and toes were cold... it was a lot colder and damper here than it had been in Sunnydale.  
  
"Is that all? Just a few moments standing still? You won't need any candles or herbs or sacrifices? A proper bloody sacrifice always livens things up a bit." There was a trace of amusement in his voice.  
  
"Sorry, I've never done any blood sacrifices for my spells. If it will make you feel that it's a bit more impressive, it will make a little glowing light that you can see. The light will go towards Dru, and I can keep the spell active while walking, or even running." Hopefully, he wasn't to annoyed. Hopefully, he wouldn't take out his frustration and worry about Dru vanishing on Willow. She shivered, partly from nerves, and partly from the chilly air.  
  
"Pity. I'm sure it would liven things up a bit." He continued walking for a bit, and then stopped, glancing at Willow, his cool blue eyes raking over her form, noting how she was shivering slightly in the night air. He shrugged off his coat, handing it to her. "Here, you look cold. Not much use helping find Dru if you freeze to death on me."  
  
Willow smiled at him, slipping his coat on gratefully. She closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling his scent, which had lingered on the coat. It was probably as close as she would get to him being wrapper around her. "Thanks. For the coat, I mean. Did you want me to cast the locating spell now, or somewhere a bit less... exposed?"  
  
He glanced around, seeing the dark streets twisting into the distance, the wisps of fog obscuring things, softening the sight of the city. "Go ahead and cast it here. Not really anyone around, and who would do anything anyhow?"  
  
Willow shrugged, conceding to his superior knowledge of the city. She cupped her hands in front of her, as if they were filled with something. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on her few memories of Drusilla, remembering the night that the vampire had invaded the library, killing Kendra and causing a bookcase to fall onto Willow. She whispered a few words, these in dependable Latin, and felt the seeking globe form, a tiny image of Dru held in the center of it. She heard William's startled gasp as it formed, and had a small smile on her face as she opened her eyes. The globe was approximately the size of an eye, and it floated over her cupped hands, sending a pale green radiance out over her face and hands.  
  
"All we have to do now is follow it, and it should lead us to her. It won't get to far ahead of me, but it might get a bit mixed up about walls." She pulled her hands away, pulling them up the sleeves a bit, and then putting the hands into the pockets. The globe floated down the street, glowing a pale green that reflected of the fog in an eerie fashion.  
  
Neither of them noticed the figure in dark clothing across the street. They didn't see the man's jaw drop as he stared at the floating globe of light, fearful of what sort of foul and unwholesome effect it would have. Nor could they know that Arthur Giles, a member of the Watcher's Council, had serious issues against magic in any form, and would now be seeking to kill or have killed the slender witch that had created the globe of unhealthy pale light. Possibly it was some sort of illness, soon to sweep through the streets, killing hundreds.  
  
Unaware of the danger that would soon be after them from the magic-fearing Watcher, the unlikely pair of travelers continued into the fog. They walked, following the globe of light down one street after another, both hoping for different reasons that Dru wouldn't be to far away, or injured, or in some sort of danger. Willow kept part of her concentration on maintaining the seeking spell, and another on looking at her surroundings. This might be her only chance to see London; she might as well try to see some of it.  
  
William suddenly stopped, his back going tense. Willow almost bumped into him, and peeked around his arm, noticing that the scents on the air now included some overly aged fish and... was that blood? She sucked in her breath quickly, and almost immediately regretted it. It was definitely blood, possibly human, but there was none of the assorted smells of demon, or at least none that managed to overpower the fish and blood. "Did we just... we just found a dead body, or parts of one, didn't we?"  
  
There was something laying on the cobblestones in front of them, a lump of something that gleamed wetly in the pale light of the seeking globe. With a sudden lurch, Willow realized that that something had once been inside somebody. She could feel her stomach twisting inside of her, and a distant part of her mind was trying to identify the object on the street. It was an internal organ, but which one? "Oh my god..."  
  
His voice was harsh as William spoke. "Not God, little witch. God had nothing to do with this. But where's the rest of her?"  
  
Willow stood in the street, trying to control her breathing, arguing with her stomach that now was not the time to throw up. She looked upwards, and her eye caught at a broken out window, a smear of red over the sill. "William? There's blood on that window. Do you think that whoever did this is still... could they be in there?"  
  
He looked at the window in question, his lips pursed slightly. "Not sure. How about I go take a look-see?"  
  
William walked closer to the building, and with an effortless looking leap, he was hanging from the ledge, pulling himself up enough that he could peer into the room. Suddenly, it was as if his body went limp, and he dropped, almost crashing into the stones before Willow managed to catch him with the power of her mind. He stood up, shaking slightly as he brushed himself off.  
  
He looked almost pale as he strode over to Willow. He took a grip on her elbow, and Willow could see that his hand was shaking slightly. "It... the rest of her was in there. At least, most of her. I'm not certain... there was blood everywhere, and she'd been dismembered. Dark haired chit, her face was too slashed up to tell if she was pretty. Now, we're going to get out of here, and we're going to find Dru."  
  
They left the area quickly; glad to see the light globe floating away from the mutilated remains of the unidentified dark haired woman, carved apart on the narrow bed.  
  
end part 6. 


	2. parts 7 to 12

As they were nearly fleeing from the place where the body was, it clicked in Willow's mind. London, WhiteChapel, the year eighteen eighty-eight, the mutilated and disemboweled woman on her bed. Jack the Ripper, one of the most notorious serial killers in history. The realization emerged in a harsh and nervous whisper. "That... the Ripper. I landed right in the time of the Ripper. Oh, God, what did I do to deserve this... the Ripper... that poor woman."  
  
"He's getting more creative, luv. That wasn't the first tart he's taken out, and she probably won't be the last. Police are finally starting to look or him, he's getting more... creative about his work." William's voice was tight, as if he was attempting to reign in his own feelings about the body, to remind himself that as a vampire, he reveled in violence and bloodshed.  
  
"I'm not supposed to be here. I'm not supposed to be in England, let alone in London. This isn't even the right century! And right into the spree of a homicidal maniac... I guess this was to keep me from missing home too much. Wait, you said not the first, and he's getting more creative? Has there been a pattern? Anything that the victims all had in common?" Willow was trying to make herself think, hoping that if she forced herself to think logically, it would help lessen the panic. She was homeless in London during the panic of Jack the Ripper! With no resources, no allies, no friends, oh, she was certain that she was in trouble.  
  
"You cast a spell and tossed your little backside across the channel and out of the proper century? Are you... What in the bloody hell sort of witch are you? Are you even capable of finding Dru?" William's voice was shocked, appalled, and a little bit dismayed.  
  
"I think I mistranslated the Greek. Or maybe it was just being over the Hellmouth. I can cast a locating spell for someone, that's easy. I can do binding spells and fireballs. I even brought someone back from Hell! I can cast a spell to find your crazy girlfriend! The last thing I need right now is for someone to question my capability at magic! I already know I have the figure of a child, and the appeal of a dusty old book, but at least give me the courtesy of assuming that I can do something right!" Willow was nearly shouting at the end, hot angry tears, tears of pain and grief at Oz's betrayal and abandonment, of years of being passed over, of rejection and grief streaming down her face and dripping onto the front of the borrowed coat. The inherent danger in yelling at an unchipped soulless vampire who's only reason for not killing her was the thought that she might be more useful alive didn't quite register at the moment.  
  
William turned to look at her, his blue eyes softening slightly as he looked at her, standing there in the chilly fog, looking small and lost inside his coat, tears of built up pain and frustration and grief running down her face. "What happened? Nobody ends up this far from home just entirely by accident."  
  
Willow brushed the tears from her cheeks, aware that they would just be replaced by more in moments. "I had a boyfriend. Yeah, he was a werewolf, but he was still a pretty nice guy. I thought that everything was good, until he saw HER. She was a singer for this other band, and it turned out that she was also a werewolf, and they got loose while they were all wolfy, and then there they were all naked and together and he... he had sex with her. Then she tried to kill me, and he changed, and he killed her instead, only then he almost ate me, except that Buffy got him with the sedative, and then he just... left town. He couldn't even bother to say goodbye, he just... ran away. I wasn't even worth a goodbye from him. And I'm supposed to just be over it, because it happened a few weeks ago, and nobody's wanted to hear about how much it hurts for almost two weeks. He was the only guy that ever seemed to want me, and he's gone, and nobody else will ever want me except as a study buddy, and I can't live like this anymore. I can't deal with this pain, and it isn't going away. So, since everyone wanted me to find a way to stop dragging everyone else into a miserable mood, I was going to do a little spell. I wanted it to help me move past my time of pain. Now, I'm in London, in the wrong damn century!"  
  
She found herself sobbing onto William's shoulder, hot tears scalding her cheeks, her eyes burning from the pain and frustration, and the misery of it all. Oz had vanished, and everyone just wanted her to magically get over it, because her pain was ruining their days. It had helped just to have someone willing to listen, but the only person willing to do that back in Sunnydale... was actually the same person that she was sobbing on now. The only glimmerings of comfort that she'd received had come from a soulless killer, a vampire that had killed hundreds of mortals, had even contemplated having her for dinner. Not her friends, not her parents, but someone that was supposed to be her mortal, or would that be immortal enemy.  
  
He just held her, his arm around her back, and listened as she told the sad story, let her tears soak into his shirt. His hand rubbed small circles over her back, just as he would have done for his ripe wicked plum. He listened, and offered the support of a shoulder, the release of tears.  
  
"Sounds like you really need a better class of friends, luv. The ones you have apparently haven't figured out that friendship goes both ways. They lean on you, but a real friend will let you lean on them." He managed to produce a handkerchief from one of the jacket pockets, and wiped the tears from her face before tucking it back into the pocket that it had emerged from. "Do you feel any better now?"  
  
Willow looked at him, sniffling slightly as her tears faded, her eyes feeling hot and scratchy from crying. She felt almost empty inside now, instead of filled with pain and bitter despair. "Actually, I think I do feel better. Not good, but better than I was."  
  
He flashed a cocky grin at her, his eyes sparkling with mischief and something else, something intense and primal and undecipherable. "Now, just remember a few things, luv. First, the damn wolf was an idiot if he left you behind. Second, you're passionate and when you landed on me I could tell that you have a decent figure on you. You can find someone else that will want you, hopefully someone that will cherish you and take care of you the way you deserve, someone that won't expect you to always be the strong one."  
  
Willow gave him a shaky smile, one as fragile as blown glass. "Don't we have a vampire to locate? And you are going to tell me about the previous... the Ripper's earlier efforts. I think... if I'm here, there has to be a reason."  
  
Amazingly, her green locator spell had remained through her tears and shouting, and was hovering, almost conveying an impression of impatience. They resumed moving, following the globe through the streets, trying to avoid stepping on anything to nasty. They were going deeper into the bad section of town, into the area where a scream in the darkness was so common that nobody would bother to check, where nobody cared if you died unless you owed them money. All in search of an insane vampire that had tried to kill Willow, although that had been more of a minor detail than anything personal.  
  
William gave her a small smile of his own, and offered her his arm as they walked. "Well, the first person that this Ripper fellow claimed credit for was a chit called Polly Nichols. I also heard a rumor that she was having an affair with this one vampire I know, not sure about that one though. Anyhow, her body was found in an alley, throat slashed, so was her stomach. Not much blood though."  
  
"Not much blood? And her throat was slashed? Maybe right over the artery? umm... William? Was there much blood found on the other victims? I mean... other than that woman in..." Willow's voice trailed off and she shuddered, not from the cool air, but from the impressions of the mayhem that she had of the little room, both from movies and William's reaction.  
  
"I didn't see the bodies, luv. But, the papers said it was over the artery. There hasn't been a lot of blood found with the other bodies either. All cheap tarts, the sort that nobody really misses, on account of there's always more. Come to think of it, they all had dark hair."  
  
"Okay, so we have a tentative victim profile, dark haired women, people that nobody would miss, and easy, umm... meaning that they would just go off with some random guy. As for the lack of blood, living over the Hellmouth makes me think that this guy might be some sort of vampire or demon. ohh... you don't think... he's not... eating the insides?" Willow's face had paled at the thought, and her expression was almost pleading as she looked at William.  
  
"I really don't know. Some of the letters said he was. But yeah, all dark haired chits going off with strange blokes in the middle of the night." His voice was low, as if he didn't want to draw attention to them.  
  
Willow shuddered again. "Ew. That's just... icky. Sounds like either some sort of night stalking baddie to me, or else a guy with really, really severe mental problems."  
  
William chuckled, an almost friendly sound. "Red, you have quite the way of describing things."  
  
end part 7.  
  
While William and Willow were discussing the gruesome details of the Ripper killings, Arthur Giles of the Watcher's Council was making some preparations of his own. He was quite firmly of the belief that witches were evil, just as vampires and demons were. That they were a menace and plague upon the populace, and should be eliminated for the protection of all people. In his mind, they were not that much different from demons, and often just as tricky. He had searched the Watcher's archives, finding many examples of witches and sorcerers causing trouble, summoning vile demons, casting curses, unleashing terrible forces. Really, wouldn't it be best to kill them as soon as possible, before they unleashed some terrible evil?  
  
He was careful in his preparations though. He alerted a few of the other Watchers, informing them that he had spotted a witch, one that had been working in conjunction with a vampire, and that he was attempting to eliminate them both. His idea was that this way, if he failed, there would be others that would follow, possibly to avenge him, but at least to kill the dangers that he had discovered. The fact that he had been able to give a good description should make it easier, although that section of London was a nightmare warren of buildings and tunnels and unsafe buildings. God alone knew how many dangers could be dwelling in there, or how many of them were working with the red haired witch and her brown haired vampire.  
  
He found a crossbow, something lethal to witch and vampire alike, and set out into the night. With a bit of luck, he would be able to find them, to kill at least one of them tonight. He had very carefully carved crosses onto the bolts for his crossbow, uncertain if they would actually make them more lethal to vampires or not, but it had made him feel better.  
  
With some caution and a warm coat, he set off, hoping to be able to make London that much safer tonight. Toe rid the city of one more dreadful parasite, something existing on the suffering and death of the common people. Watchers were supposed to do more than observe, they were sometimes the only defense an area had. If he remembered correctly, the current Slayer was in Japan, extremely far from London and any of the dangers to the people here. So, the Watchers would have to stand in, to kill the demons and vampires. Part of him was terrified, but if not him, then who would go after them?  
  
He had no way of knowing just how dangerous some of the things that stalked the streets this night actually were. He had considered the idea of vampires, of several sorts of demons, and even from common muggers. But he hadn't considered the idea of a mind twisted into feral insanity, a mind that had sunk below even the level of predatory excess considered acceptable among demons and vampires. There was no way that he could have prepared himself.  
  
In WhiteChapel, William had finished detailing the bodies that the police had found, and mentioned a few others that had been found by some of the demon community, similarly mutilated, always dark haired women, the sort he called tarts, and all of them had dark hair. They had also all been killed during the night, many around three or four in the morning.  
  
A sudden thought occurred to Willow, one that she worried would upset William. "umm... William? How does Dru normally hunt? I mean, what are her tactics?"  
  
He smiled fondly, clearly thinking about all the times he had gone hunting with his lover. "She smiles all soft and helpless like at a bloke, makes him think she's this sweet and helpless little bird, and then when she gets him alone, there he is, and nobody can help him. The sudden change always makes them afraid, tastes sweet. Nothing like the combination of fear, denial, and some bloke who thought he was going to get... well, it's a very effective plan."  
  
"Ummm.... she's going into Whitechapel to do this? Dru, with her dark hair, is going to be luring men off for what they think is a quickie, in the area where someone has been killing dark haired tarts?"  
  
William suddenly turned, his eyes golden and furious, in full vampire visage. His hand was around Willow's throat, and he had her shoved against a wall, her feet dangling a few inches from the ground. "DON'T INSULT HER!!! She's my dark goddess, my world, and I'm not going to let some little mortal chit insult her!"  
  
Fear surged through her, and Willow gasped for breath. "Not... trying to insult her. Just... she could be in... danger from the... Ripper."  
  
His eyes grew wide, and he suddenly released her, causing Willow to fall to the cobblestones in a heap. "Oh bloody hell... you're right. She's a pretty dark haired thing, and all the others had dark hair. We have to find her!"  
  
Slowly, Willow picked herself up from the cobblestones, trying to brush off any dirt or... whatever that might have stuck itself to her clothing when she had landed. She winced as she felt new bruises, and made a mental note to herself not to insult Dru, even if she was a crazy, skanky... no, best not to go there. "If the Ripper is some sort of vamp or demon, she might not be able to fight him off, although he's probably... not hungry or whatever anymore, not considering..."  
  
"Considering that woman earlier, right. So, we have a little time. I still want to find her, she..."   
  
"She's your everything. Your eternal love, the person you want to be with forever. I know. It was... mentioned in my proper time, in the Nineteen Nineties, and then again in Two Thousand and One. Dru being your everything... that even came up before the whole Slayers thing." Willow was looking around for the little globe, and so she missed the surprised expression that crossed William's face.  
  
"You're from the future? Over a hundred years in the future? And I'm still... what was that about Slayers?" The curiosity in his voice was almost tangible.  
  
"Yeah. Two Thousand one, and I'm in college, over the Hellmouth. You and Dru showed up there, and Giles, umm... he's a Watcher, but he was freaking out because you'd killed two Slayers already..." Willow moved slightly, peering through the darkness. "Aha! There's the little seeking globe. She's that way."  
  
"Two Slayers? I kill two Slayers between now and then? Sounds good. What about Dru?"  
  
"umm.... she got Kendra. She did this... mind control thingy, and just slit her throat right open. Creepy. Well, probably a big accomplishment for a vampire, but it was really freaky to watch. I was stuck under a bookcase at the time, and you know, not even a single stupid minion tried to go after me? Further proof of my lack of appeal." Willow sighed, shaking her head slightly. "And now I know I have problems, because I'm complaining that nobody even wants to bite me. That's normally a good thing... I'm going to be one of those crazy old ladies that lives in a house with a horde of cats and talks to herself..."  
  
Willow missed the amused expression that settled onto William's face. She was too busy following the globe to try to find his precious Dru.  
  
end part 8.  
  
* Sunnydale, 2001 (Season 4, original time) *  
  
Spike had woke up, his day spent in impossible dreams of HER, to be reminded of the harsh reality. Reality where she wasn't his, where he was reminded that the nights of intense passion that they had existed only in his own mind. Reminded that she wouldn't think of him like that, would never lower herself to go to bed with a demon, a vampire. As had become normal, his body was in a state of frustrated longing, tormented by his desire for HER, his glorious new goddess, the one that filled his dreams with herself, driving away any thoughts or longings for Dru, the tormented vampiress that had been his whole world for well over a century. She had claimed his heart and passion for herself, burning her claim into him, and she didn't even know it, hadn't done anything to cause it. She had just been herself, her glorious, wonderful self. A passionate woman that he didn't think he'd ever met in his waking life, yet seemed so familiar that he should be able to reach out and find her next to him…  
  
Something had been done that had left him unable to feed, and he was stuck in the Watcher's bathtub, chained up like... but he wasn't chained up. There was a faint hint of Willow's scent in the air, and his chains had been unlocked. A large cooler was sitting under the sink, and he suspected that it would be at least partly filled with blood for him. The bathroom was yet another reminder that his dreams were not reality, in his dreams, he dwelled with HER in a place of splendor and luxury, somewhere worthy of HER, his dream beloved. The woman that he could never have, and could hardly bring himself to think of when awake.   
  
He climbed out of the tub, stretching his muscles. He combed out his hair, and opened the chest, discovering that it was nearly full of blood. He was able to feed well, and there was still a generous supply. It was almost too generous a supply. She was normally pretty good about bringing him enough to eat, but this was far more than she usually brought. He didn't recall her saying anything about going out of town for the weekend.  
  
Now puzzled, Spike carefully emerged from the bathroom. The apartment was silent; the only sounds his own footsteps and the faint hum of the refrigerator. The television was turned off. No radio played, no humming of music or faint turning of pages. That didn't seem right. He listened, extending his senses as far as possible... listening for the faintest sound of life.  
  
The neighbor in the next house over had a pair of small animals, perhaps cats, currently running through the upstairs. News played in the next apartment, and there was a single heartbeat over there, an adult male. Giles' apartment was empty, not a single living creature, only his own presence, and a lingering scent of candle-wax and herbs.  
  
He collapsed into the chair, suddenly realizing what must have happened. Willow had been here, had cast a spell using candles and herbs, and now she wasn't here anymore. Had she simply left the apartment? Vanished as a result of her spell? Where was she? Who would he have to talk to? He would miss Willow if something had happened to her; she was the only one that would really talk to him. The pang of worried sorrow was joined by something else, and a bit more selfish. Without Willow, would anyone bother to remember to feed him?  
  
The door rattled, and swung open, the rustling of paper and a low English voice cursing 'confounded packages and bundles' and cursing the deterioration of his body with the passing of time. Giles came through the door, placing an armload of bundles, boxes and books on the table. He glanced up and around before realizing that Spike was not supposed to be roaming loose in his house.  
  
"What are you doing free? Where's Willow?" Giles' voice carried suspicion and concern.  
  
"Unlike the rest of you, Red likes me. She lets me out of the chains. Normally, I'm awake when she gets here, and there's a little conversation where I ask her to let me loose and she tells me to behave. Tonight, I woke up, the cuffs were off, ankles loose, and there was a cooler of blood for me under the sink. I haven't seen Red anywhere, but I know she was here." Spike's voice was determinedly neutral. If the Watcher had the idea that Willow mattered to him in any way, it would probably hurt Spike's chances for... what? What exactly was he hoping that the Watcher wouldn't interfere with? He knew that there would be nothing happening between himself and Willow, she was still torn up inside from the Wolf leaving. He knew her pain, understood it down to his bones, and he hurt with her, bled inside along with her, and couldn't understand how her 'friends' could be blind enough to miss it.   
  
"How do you know that Willow was here? Do you have any idea where she is now?" Giles was obviously worried about her.  
  
"I could smell her scent in the bathroom, so I know that she was here. There's also a hint of candle wax in the air, and some herbs. I... there was something I said to her the other day. Something about maybe there was a spell to help her get over mutt-boy. I think she tried something. No idea if she cast and walked out, or if something went odd and she just vanished." His voice wasn't quite as neutral as Spike had hoped, betraying his concern for Willow.  
  
Giles stood there, his expression thoughtful and worried. "She must have decided to cast it in the basement, I can't think of anywhere else big enough for a casting that I wouldn't have seen by now..." The Watcher turned, facing the bookshelves, and his gaze fell on the pair of books that Willow had placed on the table earlier that day, her pages of careful notes peeking slightly from the cover of the brown one.  
  
"I didn't leave any books on that table." The words emerged slowly, as if Giles had a bad feeling about the books. Slowly, he walked closer to them, opening the one with her notes cautiously.  
  
Giles looked over the pages, and a puzzled frown crossed his face. "This seems fairly straight forward... a petition to ask a request of certain benevolent and neutral beings. It shouldn't have harmed her..."  
  
Spike felt dread seep into his body, and suspicion began to gnaw at him. "What was her petition?"  
  
Flipping through the pages with careful documentation of the ritual, Giles looked for the relevant information. "Hmm... The petition is to be presented in Greek... I don't think Willow is terribly proficient in Greek. Ah, here is her phrasing, in English. She has 'help me move from this time of pain' which does sound as if she wanted assistance recovering from Oz. But that still doesn't explain where she is..."  
  
"You said Greek wasn't her best language. How does the petition read in Greek? If she got the translation off, that could change the whole meaning." Spike spoke from the couch, mentally cursing the sunlight that fell over the table, the sunlight that prevented him from looking over the pages himself. He also began something that he hadn't done in almost two hundred years; he began to pray to any power that might listen to him that Willow would be safe.  
  
"Oh dear."   
  
Spike had learned to dread those words from Giles. "What? What do you mean 'oh dear'? What does it say? What happened to Willow?!?"  
  
Giles looked at Spike, puzzlement for Spike's reaction warring on his features with concern for his findings. "The Greek, properly translated, reads 'help remove me from this time of pains.' I think... I think that Willow has accidentally removed herself from this time, most likely to a different point in time, perhaps the past, possibly the future."  
  
"WHAT!!! She's accidentally moved herself out of this time?!? How do we bring her back? There has to be something that can be done about this. I... you people need Willow." Spike's features flickered from human to vampire from the intensity of his emotions.  
  
Willow was gone from this time... not stuck grieving for her broken heart, not gone somewhere in the sunlight, but GONE. She was in some other time, probably a dangerous time. Some time where nobody would realize how special she was, how brave and resourceful. A time when her power would only lead to pain and danger to her, instead of respect and admiration. A time when she could be hurt, or even killed, and he wouldn't even know.  
  
"Yes, there must be a way to bring her back. Something that can be done to retrieve her, to bring her back to us. I will have to start looking... perhaps you could be of some assistance?" Giles was worried, perhaps thinking of all the dangers that could befall Willow in some other time.  
  
"Yeah, just pass me something. There's a lethal patch of sunshine between me and the books. If it's any help, I can read the Greek. Latin, Chinese, French and Russian as well, I tried to pick up the local language if we stayed anywhere very long." Spike was worried. Willow was gone, and they had no idea where or even when she was.  
  
There were just some days that it would be more enjoyable to sleep through, and this was shaping up to be one of them.  
  
end part 9.  
  
Willow was trying to concentrate on searching for Drusilla, really she was. Unfortunately, her subconscious had other ideas. She was still following the green locator globe, and she was aware of William slightly to her left, but her mind wasn't focused on the streets and back allies of London. Nor was she even contemplating the gruesome work of the serial killer known as the Ripper. That would have been relevant. She wasn't contemplating how to get back to her proper time either.  
  
No, Willow was contemplating Chaos demons, Fungus demons, and Angelus. Chaos demons came in two varieties, the 'lesser chaos demon', which resembled Lurch from the Addams family, crowned with an impressive rack of antlers that secreted a mildly acidic slime, and the 'greater chaos demon' which more closely resembled a centaur with the lower limbs of something like a deer, with taloned feet, and a slightly muzzle-like mouth of fangs below slime covered antlers, creating a result that was both fearsome and disgusting. There were very detailed illustrations in some of Giles' books. Fungus demons looked as if they were professional basketball players whose skin had been replaced with a pale tan leathery substance that had lumps and growths resembling mushrooms all over it, and some of them also had slime, while others released a powdery substance that caused choking and coughing from anyone near them. Again with the verdict of 'eeeuuuw'. Angelus... well, he had looked far more appealing than a chaos or fungus demon, so she could actually understand why Dru might have been attracted to Angelus. But what on earth could she have seen in a chaos demon? Or a fungus demon? Why would she want something all gross and slimy when she had William? Willow found herself concluding that it had to be because Dru was insane, that had to be the only reason why someone would ditch Spike... err, William for a chaos demon.  
  
"Never in a million years... eternal chastity sounds better." Willow didn't even realize that the words had been spoken out loud.  
  
"Better than what, Red?" William's query was proof that the words had been out loud.  
  
"ummm...." Willow knew that she couldn't explain the whole reason behind her fractured statement. But he would insist on an answer, and she had to have one that wouldn't sound like an outright lie. "I was just... thinking about this rumor that I'd heard back... home. There was something about a vampire having an affair with a Chaos demon... and, eeuuwww, gross! All slime and antlers. Eternal chastity sounds far better. But, I mean, there had to have been some sort of reason, right?"  
  
"You really heard a rumor about someone having an affair with a bloody chaos demon?!? You wouldn't lie about that, would you?"  
  
"Really! With my own ears I heard him say it! This one vamp said another vamp that he knew had took up with a chaos demon, all slime and antlers! I really truly heard him say it, and he... I don't think he was lying. I just can't figure out the attraction. I mean... gross." Willow could feel herself getting a bit nervous again. William had been showing a tendency to half choke her against walls if she said the wrong thing, she didn't want a third occurrence.  
  
"Gross... if that means vile, slime covered and disgusting, then I suppose that would be a good word for them. Some of them are supposed to have powerful psychic abilities. Others are supposed to be able to enhance someone's power. I still don't think it's enough to climb into bed with one, but there are probably some ambitious types out there who think it would be worth it." William's voice was thoughtful, and clearly conveyed his distaste for the idea of someone being intimate with a chaos demon.  
  
"Umm... William? Do you have any idea why some vampires look really ugly with their vampire faces on, and others don't look bad at all? I mean..." Willow could feel herself blushing. "You don't look bad with your fangs, although I've mostly seen you angry. Angelus didn't look unattractive; he was just threatening death and destruction. Darla and Dru didn't look bad either, although they're really not my type. I mean, yeah, bad as in scary dangerous vampires, but not bad as in ugly. That would be the Master, or even worse, Kakistos, who looked really horrible. The Master's guy Luke looked pretty bad with his vampire face on, although I didn't see him looking human, so maybe he was just ugly to begin with... and I'm babbling again, aren't I?"  
  
William chuckled. "You've been keeping a list of cute vampires, have you? The Master is powerful, don't ever forget that Red. But no, he isn't going to get too much done with his good looks. Sometimes it just age, sometimes people just look bad no matter what. Had someone tell me once that it was a reflection of the insides of you; the worse you are inside, the scarier you look outside when you vamp out. Said it was a sign of power and potential."  
  
"That can't be right. Darla and Angelus were both in the Watcher's journals as big scary threats, and they both looked good as vamps. You've taken... or will take... or something... two Slayers, and you don't look bad. Luke, as far as the books could say, he got one Slayer, was the Master's trusted lieutenant, and was not at all attractive. But a lot of minions are not only slightly smarter than dirt, but also fairly ugly. So it can't be that capable vampires are ugly, and pretty vampires are decorative fluff."  
  
"I suppose that's a good point, about the minions. Who knows? Maybe it has nothing to do with capabilities. Maybe it's just chance. Anyone ever tell you that you think about the strangest things?"  
  
Willow sighed. "All the time. That and everyone telling me I have to many thoughts."  
  
He was still laughing about the idea of someone having to many thoughts when the crossbow bolt caught him in the shoulder. The bolt burned, causing his flesh to smoke where it touched, and he roared with pain, staggering slightly from the impact. The laughter was gone, and he was entirely vampire, and furious.  
  
Willow's eyes were wide and worried, as she scanned the rooftops along the opposite side of the street for the sniper. She spoke a few words, and a crackling globe of green fog began to gather in her hand, clearly preparation for something. Finally, Willow thought that she saw movement on the rooftop. "There, I think I see something..."  
  
Growling, William headed for the building that the motion had been on, scaling the uneven side easily, his movements reminding Willow just how much vampires really were predatory, that no matter how human he might look, he wasn't. That Spike wasn't human, no matter how human-like he might seem at times. No matter how much he listened.  
  
A second crossbow bolt came from the rooftop, this one hitting Willow in her leg, the pain radiating through her in hot waves. She gasped, nearly falling to the ground from the pain, and whispered a quick spell to numb the pain, the energies from her gathered fog wavering. Crying out, she hurled the fog towards the roof, hoping that it would hit whoever had shot her, hoping that there would be some sort of answer as to who, what, why she had been shot. She didn't have enemies in this time... she hadn't even met anyone besides William!  
  
Meanwhile, William had reached the roof, and charged at the man holding the crossbow, fangs bared and growling. The man with the crossbow seemed human, and was dressed a bit better than normal for this area. Seeing William, he turned, attempting to flee, but a green swirl enveloped him, slowing his movements, making him clumsy. William grabbed at the man, intending to rip him into shreds. The man ducked, leaving William holding a fistful of coat sleeve, a few drops of blood on his claws from shallow slashes over the man's arm. William lunged after the sniper again, and the mortal dodged, slipping on the sloping roof, sliding down a bit before hitting a weak point, the roof collapsing under him, dropping him into a cluttered attic filled with an odd assortment of boxes and crates and strangely shaped things. William tried to leap after him, and encountered a barrier, an indication that he had not been invited into the building, that someone lived inside. He glared at the mortal, memorizing his face so that he would be able to find and kill him later. Concluding that the mortal was not about to emerge from the attic, William left the hole, climbing down the side of the building more carefully.  
  
"Red? You're bleeding..." His voice had the slightly deeper tone that told her that he was still vamped out.  
  
"Yeah." Her words were barely more than a whisper, and her head was spinning from pain, possibly from the blood loss or shock, although her jeans weren't too bloody. "He fired a second shot."  
  
"oh, hell... let me pull that out..." William reached forward, the motion causing the bolt still in his shoulder to pull, the new pain making him growl.  
  
"You first. My wound, the bolt might be all that's keeping it from bleeding more. Besides, your's is umm… smoking. Hang on, this is going to hurt." She reached out, one hand wrapping over the bloody bolt in his shoulder, the other pressing on his chest just under the wound, apparently heedless of the fact that she was putting her hands on his blood. She gave a sharp pull with one hand, and pushed him back with the other, and as William roared in pain again, the bolt pulled loose with a slight sucking noise. Willow staggered a bit, her face growing a bit paler as a line of intense pain shot up her leg from the motion..  
  
"Bloody... that hurt. Your turn. I'll pull it out, you be ready to put pressure on if it bleeds more." His voice was almost even, his features still vampiric.  
  
He waited for Willow's nod before gripping the bolt, growling as his hands touched the wood, feeling the crosses carved into it burning his hand. He pulled the bolt harshly, ignoring Willow's gasp as it left her leg. She pressed her hands, still covered with his blood onto the wound, trying to staunch the bleeding.  
  
"Let me help you with that..." William lowered his head to the wound, licking at the blood that flowed.  
  
Willow twitched slightly, years of living on the Hellmouth protesting this, telling her that the last thing to permit near a bleeding wound was a vampire. But it felt almost... good. The feeling of his lips on her flesh, his tongue sliding over her skin... it sent shivers through her body, dark naughty shivers. "I'm hoping that I don't go into shock... to much blood loss could do that."  
  
Willow decided not to worry about it. If he was actually intending to help tend her wound, why should she object? Besides, as far as the Watcher journals went, vampire bites rarely got infected, maybe there was some sort of anti-bacterial agent? It felt so nice, pleasant and sending those delightful shivers through her. Besides, what did she have to live for right now? Her friends didn't have time for her, her boyfriend... Oz was gone. The only person that even cared a little was Spike. Spike would recover, assuming that he even missed her. She wouldn't have cared if Spike had killed her in the dorm room. She didn't have any more to live for now. At least, if she was going to die, it would be at the hands... teeth? tongue? of an attractive vampire.  
  
She felt a small smile on her face. Shivering slightly, she wondered why she felt so cold, and then everything spun slowly into darkness.  
  
end part 10.  
  
Willow woke up, her leg throbbing with dull pain, the tension of bandages around it. She could feel bruises on her back, undoubtedly from William pushing her into those walls last night. He had some anger issues that he should really talk to someone about, preferably someone that didn't bruise. It then occurred to Willow what all this actually meant. She was still alive.  
  
She was alive, which meant that William hadn't killed her, hadn't drank her blood down to the last drop. Maybe it was just because she could still help him find Drusilla? Or maybe... maybe he just wasn't hungry, or she had tasted bad or something. She really didn't know, but she was fairly certain that most people would just be glad about surviving, instead of trying to figure out why.  
  
Carefully, Willow sat up, her head feeling as if the world was spinning around her as she moved. She stopped, trying to make everything feel better, trying to think through the dizziness. It had to be from the blood loss, because the wound didn't feel as if there had been any sort of poison. So, she felt bad because she had a hole in her leg, and had lost a fair amount of blood through it, and had traipsed on foot through the cold air. Blood loss and exertion, and she hadn't really been eating very well before her little trip, so that might have contributed.  
  
Closing her eyes, she tried to remember the healing spell that she had learned to try to help Buffy with her patrols. Buffy hadn't wanted it cast on her very often, claiming that Slayer healing would take care of things, but... maybe Buffy just hadn't trusted Willow's magic. She had used it on herself, as well as Xander and Giles on numerous occasions when they had been bruised or cut by some nasty creature. She placed her hand over the injury, the slight pressure making the wound throb painfully, and spoke the words, a short phrase in Latin. She felt warmth flow into the wound, and the throbbing faded away. It still hurt, and there would still be bruising, but no more gaping open wound. It occurred to her that maybe she should use it on William, after all, he had been injured as well.  
  
The first problem with that idea was that she had no idea where he was, for that matter, she wasn't entirely certain where she was. She had been laying on a brown couch in what appeared to be some sort of sitting room, with heavy curtains, presumably over a window. There was a single door, closed. There was a dome covered tray on the small table, and when she opened it, there was a loaf of dark bread, a chunk of cheese, and a pair of small apples, and a note with a familiar scrawl 'eat up Red, you must be starving - W' letting her know that William had been responsible for the food. Obviously, he had brought her here last night, after they had been shot.  
  
Willow ate some of the bread and cheese, as well as one of the apples. Carefully, she put the other apple and the rest of the bread into the pocket of her borrowed coat for later. Last night had reminded her that all night food places were a recent invention, and they didn't really have them in the late eighteen hundreds. Yet another reason to return to her own time if she could.  
  
Moving slowly due to the stiffness that was still in her leg, she moved to the door, discovering that it was unlocked. There was a hallway, and no sign of any people, human or otherwise. Shaking her head slightly, she cast the locator spell, set to lead her to William, and began following it down the hall, up a staircase, and down another hall to a door. Listening, there was only silence from the other side, so if she opened the door, at least she wouldn't be interrupting anything. Carefully, Willow turned the handle, and the door opened, showing a dark room with a narrow bed and a small table. William was in the bed, his clothing dropped on the floor near the foot of the bed. He had apparently tossed in his sleep, and she could see his bare chest and arms, and almost all of one pale, naked leg revealed by the rumpled covers. He looked so still, the wound raw and angry on his shoulder.  
  
She found herself moving closer, almost as if she was being drawn to him. Carefully, she brushed one soft lock of brown hair from his face. William didn't move, didn't twitch or even breathe. She put her fingers very lightly on the wound, barely touching at all, and whispered the incantation, concentrating on helping him to heal, speeding the closing of the wound and the repair of the torn muscles. A greenish gold glow spread over the wound, sinking into the flesh as it closed. His eyes opened, flickering from blue to gold, and he grabbed her wrist with a growl, looking around the room in an effort to figure out what had woke him.  
  
"What... why are you in here? What were you... my shoulder?" He let go of her wrist, looking at his shoulder with a puzzled expression. There was still an angry red mark, but the wound was closed, no more than a dimple to show that there had been a hole through his shoulder. He ran his fingers over the scar, as if not quite believing his eyes.  
  
"Since I was awake, I thought I could do a minor healing spell. I already got my leg, and I thought maybe you'd like your shoulder to heal a bit faster... I didn't mean to wake you up. Sorry?" Willow wasn't quite certain what to do. She was fairly certain that he was naked under those covers. He hadn't really seemed happy to see her, and probably didn't like her anyhow, judging from the bruises over her back. But she had wanted to help him. For no explicable reason, against all logic and sense, she wanted to help him.  
  
"umm... I think I'll just... umm... let you go back to resting now. Really didn't mean to wake you." She could feel herself blushing. She turned, and practically bolted from the room, her face hot, and the image of William in the bed, the covers only barely covering him burned into her mind.  
  
She didn't stop until she was back in the little sitting room, the door closed firmly behind her. She could still feel her breathing, and her heart was racing from the view, however accidental it had been. "Wow... all that underneath his clothing. He is just so... gorgeous. Handsome... and entirely, hopelessly, obsessively in love with Dru. Dru, the vampire girlfriend. Meaning that he's taken, and still taken in a hundred and twenty years. I should just... forget the whole thing."  
  
Willow was beginning to think that this century was hazardous to more than just her physical health. Physically, she had fallen on a vampire, been shoved into walls twice, and shot in the leg with a crossbow. Emotionally... she was afraid that she was falling for William. She knew that it was hopeless. He was completely in love with Drusilla, and she was mortal. Vampires didn't get involved with mortals. If he even noticed her as a female, it was unlikely that he would care. It would be far worse than the hopeless crush that she'd had on Xander. William was actually likely to notice. If anything, he'd probably laugh at the mortal chit silly enough to fall for a vampire. Yeah, she really had to get home.  
  
She had finally managed to get her pulse and breathing back under control when a small tap at the door nearly made her jump out of her skin, and she voiced a very undignified squeak of startlement. Carefully, her pulse once again rapid, she turned, moving back from the door, and softly spoke. " Who's there?"  
  
" Miss? Master William said that you had some questions about the recent... killings?" The voice was low, a pleasant tenor. Actually, it almost reminded Willow of Wesley Wyndham-Price, although it was clearly the wrong century for that individual.  
  
She turned around, opening the door while smoothing her hair back into something approximating order. "Yes, I had… sort of an awful idea that I wanted to get a bit more information towards. Either to discover that it's right or hopefully to prove it wrong."  
  
On the other side of the door was a man, possibly in his mid thirties. He was dressed in a slightly shabby brown suit, and seemed fairly proper in some ways. His dark brown hair was pulled back, and he had a slightly red complexion, and was most obviously alive. "I'm Harold Sutton, an associate of the Rashe family. Master William sought a small measure of assistance from them last night after your... attack."  
  
"Oh. umm... I'm Willow Rosenberg. Please, sit down." Willow felt a bit nervous; she had never been particularly good at the social graces.  
  
"Miss Rosenberg, may I ask what this particular unpleasant theory of yours was?"  
  
"You know about the Ripper killings? It occurred to me that... William said that all the reported victims had dark hair. Have there been... other killings of dark haired women? Similarly... mutilated? Please, it's not that I find this interesting, but... I want to figure out how to stop him. If we ... or actually, maybe me, know what he looks for, then maybe we can find him. Get rid of him. It also occurred to me that he might not actually be... umm, human."  
  
"Your reasoning seems quite sound. I have heard of several other mortal women, all dark haired and similarly... mutilated, yes, that's a very suitable word for it. They have been getting progressively... more elaborate. There have also been a number of dark haired female minions gone missing, most likely destroyed over the past few months. If the Ripper isn't human, he could have had something to do with it. Naturally, there were no bodies found..." He shifted, fidgeting awkwardly with his shirt cuff.  
  
"Then most likely, the Ripper has a body count significantly higher than the police are aware of, and possibly has extended that into the vampire population. Is it safe to assume that the female minions in question were... not particularly skilled at fighting?" Willow was almost thinking out loud.  
  
"Most likely, yes. Which also increases the likelihood that the Ripper is not human. Most likely, he is either a vampire or some other species of demon that can pass for human in the dark, anything too different would be noticed, even in the most dreadful sections of town." Mr. Sutton was watching Willow, clearly interested in her reasoning.  
  
Willow sighed, her mind reviewing the possible types of demon that might be able to accomplish all of the things that the Ripper had done. "He's most likely a vampire. Stakes, beheading, or possibly putting him out into the sunshine, although this is London, there's an occasional shortage of sunshine..."  
  
"I think that between you and Master William, you should be quite capable of finding a solution."  
  
end part 11.  
  
Willow had been left alone in the room to ponder the Ripper, and what to do about him. Her options were complicated by several factors. She wasn't positive what the Ripper was, although she was leaning towards vampire or demon. She didn't know where he laired, only that he hunted in and around Whitechapel. Someone seemed to be trying to kill her, for an unknown reason. Lastly, she had no weapons but her magic, and her only ally was William.  
  
She was getting frustrated. Her mind kept running in circles, repeating the problems over and over, occasionally alternating with descriptions of the victims, and the pressing question of 'Where was Dru, and what would happen if she wasn't alright?' Willow was almost ready to just scream out of pure frustration. Just to change things, even if only for a few moments. She had resisted the temptation so far, but...  
  
Instead, she continued her pacing, almost growling with frustration. She wasn't used to having so little to work with attempting to defeat evil. There had always been books, and weapons, even if she wasn't the one to use the weapons against the bad things. Here, the only resources available were William's knowledge of the area and vampire abilities, and her own magic, limited to what she could do with no materials or whatever scraps of materials she could find. It wasn't a lot, and she was far from certain what to do. "I need a plan... think, think... got to find him, kill him, and then..."  
  
"Then I get my Dru back and we try to help you get home. That's how it's going to be, Red. We find Dru, kill this sorry pillock, and find a way to get you home." William's voice carried from the doorway, his accent making his words seem more powerful to Willow.  
  
Willow jumped, a sharp gasp for air betraying her startlement. "Oh!! I um... didn't realize that you were up yet. I've sort of been... trying to come up with a plan. I haven't had much luck, I'm used to having some books for research, and weapons available. Not to mention being able to go buy anything I need for a spell right down the corner."  
  
"Sounds a lot more convenient. What about the nightlife? Are there very many people to eat where you come from?" William's voice sounded almost wistful, but Willow didn't think he realized it.  
  
"Oh, that depends on what time it is. Until about midnight, there are a lot of people outside, mostly teenagers and twenty somethings, or tourists. Make that stupid tourists. There are a pretty high number of vampires, and lots of... how did this one vampire put it? Oh, yeah, 'lots of happy meals on legs'. Basically, yeah, lots of people to eat. Options. And a lot of abandoned buildings that get used as lairs." Willow's voice was balanced between a wistful urge to get back home and an awareness of the dangers of Sunnydale.  
  
"Sounds like a great place to be a vampire. Maybe I'll have to go there someday." William sounded thoughtful, as if he was already planning his arrival, and what sort of people to kill as a welcome to town feast.  
  
"Yeah. I'm sure you will. Just remember - California gets a lot of sunshine. You, being a vampire, should stay out of sunlight so you don't get all flamey and scorched, which really isn't an attractive look, although I bet you could pull it off, especially with those cheekbones. Oh, I'm sure you already know this and I'm babbling again, I was really hoping that I'd grown out of this, but no, drop me into another century with the cute vampire and I get all babbly Willow and find him in his bed all naked..." She continued to pace the whole time, not even pausing for breath once.  
  
"I have no idea how someone that actually needs to breath can manage to say so much at once. Although, warning me about the sunshine... someone might get the idea that you actually care about me." William's voice carried amusement and surprise.  
  
Willow could feel herself blushing. Someone getting the idea that she cared... that would be very awkward. Because she did care, somewhere along the last few weeks in Sunnydale, she had developed a huge crush on Spike. He had managed to slip into her battered heart without her noticing, until one morning, she had woke up realizing that she had developed feelings for Spike, that she would miss him when he was gone, and that she had fallen victim to yet another hopeless crush.  
  
What made it worse was the nature of those feelings. Sure, she loved to listen to him talk, his voice was all smooth and he had that sexy accent, and he had so many interesting experiences that he could remember, even if a lot of them involved blood or violence. Nor was it entirely lust for his incredibly sexy body, although if she had to pick one person that she had met in her entire life for a night of pure, passionate sex... It would never happen. She admired his persistence and resourcefulness, was fascinated by his mind, lusted over his body... and he was not only hopelessly devoted to Dru, but no man ever really noticed her anyhow.  
  
She didn't want anyone to find out about it. Especially not William, who would eventually become the Spike that she had fallen for. He was pretty appealing in his own right, although he was even more off limits. Spike's Dru had left him, William's Dru had just gotten lost... or at least, that's all they thought had happened to her. He had his ripe wicked plum, his dark goddess. What interest could he have in a temporally displaced red head?  
  
Spike wouldn't want her, neither would his earlier version, William. Especially not if he had his Dru, his curvaceous, dark eyed temptress of a lover. His wicked obsession who would probably chain him up and torture him until he begged... although from what she had read in the Watcher journals, he would probably like that. It was far better if she hide her hopeless crush forever.  
  
"You... aren't such a bad guy, even considering that you're a blood drinking occasionally ruthless vampire who has probably killed thousands of people. And besides, there... there really aren't very many people who even pretend to listen to me if I'm upset. I kind of want to keep one around, you know?" Willow was still blushing, and she could hear herself stumbling over her words.  
  
William looked at her, his blue eyes filled with unreadable emotions. "You are really something else red. So, there's something I'm a bit curious about. When you were passing out last night, you muttered a few things. Something about not warning the tadpoles, and let's see, the phrase 'skanky bitch slut' and something about a Spike sundae, with chocolate sauce."  
  
Willow sank onto the couch, her hands over her face, which had first gone crimson with embarrassment before moving beyond crimson to a sickly pale color. She had really said... oh god, the mortification, the embarrassment. Could she possibly just sink into the floor now? She made a little whimpering noise from behind her hands.  
  
"I've always been too curious, care to enlighten be a bit?" He was grinning, apparently enjoying her discomfort.  
  
When Willow finally spoke, her voice was slightly muffled by her hands. "I have frog fear. And umm... remember I said my boyfriend cheated on me? He cheated with this skanky... the skanky werewolf slut."   
  
"Frog fear? You have no big problem with vampires, seem pretty calm about getting shot, and you're afraid of FROGS?!?" William's voice was incredulous, and he stared at her, as if seeking the truth in her eyes.  
  
"Yeah. They're all slimy, and they have these big voices and they jump, and eeeuww. I know it's a bit strange, but... yeah, I'm afraid of frogs. I'd rather deal with scary vampires and would be apocalypses." Willow was feeling slightly better, but still horribly embarrassed.  
  
"So what was this about a Spike sundae? And the chocolate sauce?" William's voice dashed Willow's fragile hope of a reprieve.  
  
"umm... you know about ice cream? Well... umm... oh, this is embarrassing. If you sort of... umm... put the ice cream, whipped cream and chocolate sauce on... not a bowl... umm... I'm sure you... ahh... I'm sure you can figure it out." Willow was certain that if this didn't kill her, it was a positive discovery: you really couldn't die of embarrassment.  
  
"hmmm... ahhhh." William's eyes lit up, flickering from blue to gold as the sundae concept clicked into place for this reference. "And then you eat the sundae... oh, I definitely have the idea now. Spike... he must be your ex-boyfriend. The one that cheated on you and run away. Sounds like a lucky bloke, having someone like you lick chocolate off of his... well, never mind. Must have lost a few of his marbles changing if he cheated on you and ran off."  
  
Willow heard his words, and got so caught up in the idea of licking chocolate off of Spike that she didn't bother to correct his impression that Spike was the name of her boyfriend. She simply kept blushing.  
  
While William was embarrassing Willow with mentions of Spike sundaes, the object of their search was no more than a few miles away. Drusilla reclined on a medium sized bed, the covers becoming stiff and slightly crusted, and numerous stains of blood and other things drying on the once clean sheets. She reclined, unabashedly naked, with harsh lines across her stomach and breasts as she watched her new lover playing with his toy. She smiled as the mortal woman screamed and pleaded, begging for mercy, or death. Her new lover had no mercy, and death would come later.   
  
Dru smiled at the gift he had given her last night. Holding it up into the light, she admired the way the light caressed the subtle curves of the small object floating in the jar. The crimson of the blood had sank to the bottom, and when she shook it, the blood made bright swirls of color in the white wine, and she could watch the kidney spin in the jar. Such a pretty prezzie...  
  
end part 12. 


	3. parts 13 to 18

Eventually, the sun set, permitting William to move about outside. They would be able to search for Drusilla now. Hopefully, they would find her and she would be safe. Not that Willow was particularly fond of Dru, but William was. Willow wanted William to be happy, and he thought that happiness was being with Drusilla, so... off to find her.  
  
"So, can you do that little guide spell again? To show us which way she is?" William's voice was thoughtful.  
  
"Of course. It only takes a few moments. I hope... I hope everything goes well for you and Dru. You'll have each other..." Willow couldn't quite stop the tear that slid down her cheek.  
  
William reached over, brushing the tear away with his thumb. His expression was almost tender as he looked at her. "What's wrong, Red?"  
  
"It's.... it's a bit silly actually. You love Dru, and you'll have her to be with. Back at home, my parents are never home, my almost parent, Rupert Giles has a girlfriend, my supposed to be best friend is to busy with her new boyfriend to have time for me. My boyfriend cheated on me and left town. I don't really have anyone to go back to, even if I do figure out how to get there. I guess I'm feeling a bit sorry for myself." Willow's voice cracked a bit with the effort not to cry.  
  
William smiled at her, running his fingers through her short red hair. "Don't worry. If we can't figure out a way to send you home... Willow, you are pretty, and so sweet and intelligent that it's hard to believe you're real. Not to forget the part where you taste divine. If you can't get back home, I could turn you. Make you part of my family. We wouldn't abandon you, not ever. We might be a bit much to adjust to, and the blood drinking would be a change, but... I'd be happy to bring you into my family. I'd turn you in a heartbeat."  
  
Willow managed a small smile, part of her remembering Spike's words from the dorm 'I'd bite you in a heartbeat.' William sounded so sincere. "It's probably sad that that's the best offer that I've had in a long time. And it's actually very tempting. But... maybe we should try to figure out this whole thing with Dru before discussing me joining your family?"  
  
William smiled, looking oddly pleased. "Dru, yeah. We should find her first. I meant it though, you'd be welcome in the family. Not just for a little while, and certainly not as a minion. You'd make a splendid childe."  
  
Willow was actually smiling as she spoke the short chant that accompanied focusing her thoughts on Dru for the locator spell. The wispy globe of green formed, a bit more golden this time, and slowly began to move down the street, not to fast to comfortably follow.  
  
She found it oddly reassuring that William would want her as his childe. Granted, her hormones were all in favor of the idea, especially since the Watcher's journals that she hadn't been supposed to read had made it clear that Sires and their Childer almost always had a sexual aspect to their relationship. Sexual relationship... sex with William... yum. Shaking her head and blushing, Willow tried to stop thinking about William and sex. They were supposed to be finding Dru, not allowing her to indulge in lustful fantasies.  
  
They began walking through the dark streets, following the light, hoping to find Drusilla before anything irreversible happened. Willow was only seeking Dru to make William happy. After that... she would try to find a way to go home, home where she had nobody to comfort her, nobody to ease her loneliness, to hold her when she cried. She was quiet as they walked, her thoughts dark and unhappy.  
  
The globe led then deeper into the maze of streets, twisting and turning until Willow was entirely lost. Finally, it hovered in front of a door, the building looking rather like a once sturdy warehouse fallen into disrepair. The bricks were darkened by soot, and the trash that had collected around the walls had a particularly foul and rotten odor, partly chemicals, and partly something like rotting flesh. It gave Willow a bad feeling to be near the building, as if her instincts were telling her to run the other way. She actually felt her skin quivering, and it was really quite freaky. So that was what 'your skin crawling' really felt like…  
  
"I smell blood. Human, some fairly recent, some older... there's a lot of it. And the scent of fear..."   
  
William's voice startled Willow, making her jump and give this little squeak, a noise that would have sounded more appropriate from a mouse. "You smell... uh... right. Is there... is there blood from more than one person? Can you feel Dru?"  
  
William's face had shifted, and his teeth were sharp, his eyes golden and feral as he spoke. "Multiple people... most of them are older. I think it's all from women. And I can feel Dru... she's close, very close, but... she's shutting the link, I can't get any more than her presence."  
  
Studying the door carefully, Willow felt for magic. Reading for energies here reminded her of searching through the Sunnydale sewers, but it was important. There was a feeling of gathered power, built up, but not focused. It hadn't been really 'stored' so much as just dragged out and left. The power felt dark, tainted somehow. There was a crude ward around the building, something that would most likely do little more than alert the caster to their presence. "Well, I think someone inside it trying to play with magic. There's power, and a really rough ward over the building... when we go in, someone's going to know. Before you ask, yes, the spell says she's inside."  
  
"Time to go to the rescue then." He grinned with unsettling glee, and kicked the door down. He stalked into the darkness, his eyes almost glowing. Willow followed, and her spell globe zipped ahead, weaving along in the building. She was certain that he was glad to have something that he could do.  
  
It lead down a hallway, and into a room that reeked of blood and something else, a fouler stench that spoke of ruptured entrails. There was a body crumpled in the corner, her dark hair matted with congealing blood, her internal organs laid out around her in a pattern, lines drawn in the blood forming a shape around her, a crude circle. The feeling of almost gathered power hung thickest near the body.  
  
Willow gagged on the combination. The scent of blood and entrails and death hung thick in the air. She could feel it coating her throat, the stench clinging to everything in the room, the gathered energy felt of stickyness and carried the almost echo of tortured screams, and Willow knew that the woman had been alive while the circle was drawn, alive while her parts were laid out around her. Her muscles quivered, and her knees felt as if they had turned to water. She could feel herself collapsing.  
  
William caught her, looking a bit unsettled himself. "She's dead now. Nothing that can be done... and that's a circle around her, isn't it?"  
  
"He did this to her... carved her open as she screamed, drew the circle as she watched, and then he laid out her insides, and al she could do was scream and bleed and die. He wanted to gather power... magic from her death."  
  
The light was hovering across the room, by a set of stairs that led upwards. Willow and William, both unsettled by the woman's body, hurried towards the stairs, carefully following the floating globe up the stairs. As they approached the top, they began to notice little noises, small, almost rhythmic creaking noises. Willow's bad feeling intensified, and she had the sudden certainty that she didn't want to see what was on the other side of the door at the top of the stairs.  
  
William kicked that door open, and the greenish glow of the locator globe revealed the room. Small glass jars lined a shelf, each one containing a small bit of someone, eyeballs, kidneys, other bits that Willow's mind refused to identify. The floor and walls had been splashed with blood, and the only other furnishing was a metal framed bed. On that bed, Drusilla was naked, firmly and quite willingly rocking on the naked man, clearly taking and giving sexual pleasure. He was also naked, and the image seared itself in Willow's brain, a horrible, awful image.  
  
"Dru... oh god..."   
  
The words from William were a barely shaped breath of pain. Simply from hearing them, Willow knew that his world was crumbling out from under him. He spun around, and with a growl, picked Willow up, flinging her over his shoulder, and he bolted from the room, not stopping until they were outside the building.  
  
Scarlet tears were streaming down his face as he carefully put Willow back on the ground. "She... and him... how could she do that? I gave her everything..."  
  
"I know you did. I don't know why she would do that... I wish... is there anything I can do to... try to help?" Willow wanted to comfort him, wanted to sooth his pain. She knew exactly how much that had hurt him, her own experience of seeing Oz entwined with Veruca burned in her mind.  
  
He looked at her, his expression hardening into determination. "You're a witch. Can you burn the place down around them?"  
  
Willow looked back at the building, and then glanced at William, his golden eyes rimmed with bloody tears, their tracks down his face like wounds. "Yes. Just... if this makes me fall over, catch me before I crack my head on the street."  
  
She focused, and with her own power, focused a barrier around the building, like a bubble. She shaped it like the uninvite spell, trapping them inside the building. Then, she reached out with her power, touching the gathered energy of pain and death, sparking it as if setting a match to oiled rags. The backlash from her action, one deliberately done with intent to harm, leapt at her, pain stabbing through her body, bright spots dancing in front of her eyes before everything faded into a dark haze of pain.  
  
William caught her, watching in stunned awe as the building practically exploded into green and yellow flames, the heat washing over him, the flames caught, as if in a giant, invisible egg. The fire didn't crackle, didn't roar as he'd expected, no, this one howled like a soul in torment.  
  
It was the perfect expression of his pain, giving voice to it as he could not.   
  
He only smiled when he felt the bond with Dru burn away to nothingness, her death-screams echoing inside his head.  
  
end part 13.  
  
Finally, as dawn was nearing, William looked away from the towering fury of green and gold fire. He still held Willow in his arms, in a pose that would look lover-like to an observer. She had slowly regained awareness, although it was questionable if she would be capable of walking on her own. She was also watching the flames, her expression a mixture of pain, awe and a hint of fear.  
  
"We need to go away from this place. Away before the sun rises. Preferably somewhere to try and help with the pain. You don't look your best, Red, so I'm just going to carry you." His words were quiet, and oddly without emotion, as if all his emotion had been captured by the fire, taken from him leaving his heart filled with dust and ashes.  
  
Willow's voice was slightly groggy, and slurred as if she had only just awakened. "There isn't medicine for broken hearts. Ripped out, thrown to the ground, and danced on, with slices of lemon thrown at the gaping empty hole... it hurts so bad."  
  
"Not planning that sort of medicine, luv. I was actually planning more along the lines of numbing rather than anything else. Whiskey works pretty good for that. It won't fix everything, but it will numb things down a bit. I figure it wouldn't hurt, especially since we need to go somewhere for the day anyhow." His voice was low, holding vast measures of pain.  
  
Willow simply sighed, possibly consent, possibly from pain, she wasn't certain anymore. She knew that it had been necessary to cleanse the building, to burn away the corruption and evil that had become imprinted into the walls and floor, held in the very air within the walls. She also knew that it had been bad to use her power to kill, to end the existences of two creatures, even if those two had been Dru and the Ripper. Did that make her a bad witch? She had put her pain at Oz's betrayal into the fire, her rage and hurt and suffering, had that been wrong as well? The fire had certainly not been natural.  
  
The next thing she was clear on, she was sitting on a brown leather couch with William, a glass of alcohol in her hand. She had somehow lost her shoes, and her feet were curled under her, causing her to lean slightly towards William. She wasn't certain where they were, or how exactly she had gotten to this couch. Did it even matter now? She had used her power to kill, the one person that had shown any semblance of caring about her in this time had just seen his beloved screwing someone else and watched the building burn down around her. She was stuck in this time, and most likely, nobody in Sunnydale would even care. She raised the glass, and drank down the alcohol, which burned down her throat like fire.  
  
"She was my everything... I devoted myself to her. Gave her anything she wanted... pretty dresses, flowers, pretty jewelry, pretty dresses with pretty girls in them... Why couldn't I have been enough? I mean, I can see why she went to Angelus... he's ... was her Sire. She thought he could do nothing less than wonderfully. But... wasn't I worth anything to her? Why did she do it? Why would she give herself to... to that sick and wretched excuse for a vampire?" William's voice was low, as if he didn't expect an answer. He was just giving voice to the pain inside of him.  
  
"Must have been the same reason he went to her. She had something he wanted... needed. Something I couldn't give him, no matter how hard I tried... and I tried so hard. I would have given him anything, all he had to do was ask. I couldn't be enough for him, and he went of and got all... primal and had sex with her... that's all it could have been. Hot, primal sex, no caring, no tenderness... what if he never really wanted the tenderness? Maybe I was too human for him after all..." Willow's own words were not truly directed at William. She was remembering her own heart break.  
  
"I killed nuns and schoolchildren for her... brought them to her so she could kill them herself. Found her dozens of those blasted dolls... dozens of little songbirds that she always let starve away into nothingness... Am I such a failure, even as a vampire?"  
  
"I couldn't curse him. I wanted to... to curse him, both of them, misery for the rest of their wretched existences. I couldn't do it then, I still loved him even after seeing them all naked together. But then she attacked me... he killed her, you know. Right there... and then he didn't know me anymore, and almost killed me right after. He was gone the next day. I felt like he took a part of me with him, ripped it out and left me behind to bleed..."  
  
"Then he was a fool, your Spike. Leaving someone like you, just for a wild tumble. You're lovely, smart, think well under pressure... damn powerful too. That building..." William paused, frowning as he tried to take a drink from his cup and found it empty. He poured it full again, topping Willow's off as well. "You're a wonderful person, Red. All gentle and powerful... like the tide. Not all brightly obvious like the sun, but irresistible as the tide, and with as many secrets inside of you."  
  
"And Dru was obviously a mental basket case to leave you. I mean, yeah, let's leave Angelus out of the discussion, preferably way out... umm... right, Dru was an idiot. You would do anything for her... give her anything on a silver platter... pamper her, protect her... went to the hellmouth to help her get better after that angry mob... Only an idiot or someone insane would throw that away for a few nights with some inept would be sorcerer with a fetish for bottled body parts."  
  
Willow took a drink from her glass, feeling the cool liquid slide down her throat. "Anyone can see, especially with those eyes, and your cheekbones... having you would be wonderful." She paused a moment, and then twisted slightly, her eyes growing wide as she looked at William. "You think I'm pretty?"  
  
"Of course, luv. Bloody gorgeous, all green eyes like emeralds, and pale skin and hair like fire reflected on blood... and I bet you'd look right gorgeous as a vampire. I could do it, turn you... make you my childe." He looked at her, his eyes wholly serious.  
  
Willow thought about it carefully. "I think you're drunk. So am I. That's not good... I don't want to die drunk. Besides... if you were going to turn me into your childe, so that we would have forever together, I want to be sure I remember it all when I wake up."  
  
William grinned, revealing a dimple in his cheek as he did. "So... the idea of being my childe sounds good? And how would you rather be turned, if not while the two of us are both half drunk?"  
  
Willow swirled her glass, watching as the liquid lapped at the sides, briefly fascinated by the shifting golden hues. "I want to remember it... I want it to be worth remembering. Maybe kisses... and just drain me slowly, so that I sink against you in wicked delight... wake up on silk sheets covered only by a scattering of rose petals. Yeah... that would be much better than the two of us drunk in... where are we anyhow? I wouldn't want you to turn be and regret it later. I've never been enough for anyone before, wouldn't want to have a Sire feel the same way."  
  
She didn't notice his jaw drop at her description of what she'd prefer, didn't notice his eyes go amber, filled with lust at her soft words, at the picture of raw seduction that her words painted. Nor did she realize quite how much of her tormented longing for him had crept out, the hopeless desire exposed and quivering beneath her words.  
  
"You've... put a lot of thought into that picture, luv. It does sound better. What did you mean about not being enough for anyone? I'm almost wondering if I could handle you... let that fire out a little and you burn like a bonfire. You could have the world at your feet, screaming in blood and fire."  
  
"I thought I loved Xander... best friend since we were four. I wanted him to see me, to realize that I wasn't one of the guys, that I wanted him... he didn't see me. I heard him say it... I wasn't the sort of person whose lips he thought about. Not until... and then, it was more like he was sneaking little kisses because I was dating someone else. Little Willow wasn't good enough, but Willow who was someone else's girlfriend?" She gave a short, bitter laugh. "Nobody even wanted to kill me for myself, it was always 'oh, the slayer's little friend, it will hurt her to find your broken body.' or something like that. No sympathy when I find someone else's broken dead body... no, nobody cares about Willow's pain. Then he cheated on me, and he left... and it was only a few weeks ago, and they think I should have moved on already."  
  
Willow tossed back more of the whiskey, her eyes almost fever bright now. "Buffy should understand. She's still talking about how torn up she is over Angel... he didn't cheat on her. Left months ago for her own good, 'cause he didn't want to loose his soul again... bad curse, stupid gypsies."  
  
  
  
"Gypsies? What do gypsies and curse have to do with the Slayer and her boy-toy parting ways?" William looked at Willow, puzzlement over his face.  
  
"He wasn't always Angel. Angel's okay, broods a lot, but not to bad. But that's with his soul. Don't eat the gypsies, not even the little ones. Makes their wicked sorcerers all pissy mad, and they start tossing curses out. Gave Angelus a soul, and he went all broody and miserable. Came to Sunnydale, fell into the clutches of Buffy the golden, and they had this tormented forbidden love thing... they got together after the nasty Judge... Giant blue smurf guy... wait a minute, I thing Dru had him put together, why would she do something so... crazy?"  
  
"Soul? Gypsy curse? How much have you been drinking, red?" William frowned at her.  
  
"Dunno, you keep pouring. Is that still the same bottle? Angelus ate a gypsy... her clan Kalla... Kader.. Ashes... some clan got all mad, and gave him a soul... guilt, misery, tormented dreams... it was painful. He came to the Hellmouth, fell for Buffy. They had sex... soul went away, he went evil psycho stalkery on her... so I gave him back the soul. 'Cept Buffy didn't care and sent him to hell anyhow. But he had to go away... otherwise they wouldn't be able to keep their hands away from each other, and, y'know, Angelus. He wasn't our friend. He killed my fishies... and my favorite teacher. Didn't have anyone but Giles then... he's a nice guy for a Watcher."  
  
"That's... soul curse? Red, that sounds entirely unnatural. You gave it back to him? How... why?"  
  
"I wanted our friend back... and Angelus was trying to do something bad... Kathle demon... no, that's not right, Akathle... Acathala? Yeah, he was going to open Acathala. Why try to end the world anyhow? I mean, where would you live if you get rid of it?" Willow was looking at William, her finger tracing over his eyebrow.  
  
Suddenly, she sat up, he brow wrinkled in confusion. "I shouldn't be telling you any of this! I could change the future by telling you about things that haven't happened... fuzz the timeline... alter history. You haven't killed your slayers, and Dru hasn't killed Kendra..."  
  
"Luv, Dru's not going to kill anyone. We burned her down, remember?"  
  
"Oh, right." Willow leaned against William, her hand touching him, trying to trace his muscles through his shirt. "So the timeline won't ever be the same now. Cause... you won't be doting on her, and... um... the Judge, and the whole ritual thingy with Angel..."  
  
William glanced down, trying to figure out why her words had trailed away, only to see that she had passed out, and the gentle warmth of her breathing and pulse of her heart were the only sounds from her.  
  
end part 14  
  
Eventually, Willow woke up, her head throbbing. Her eyeballs hurt, and she felt almost raw, as if she had recently been sun burnt. Her tongue felt like it was being used to culture some possibly toxic mold, fuzzy and foul tasting. Her joints hurt, as if they had been bruised. She gave a small whimper, hoping to never ever again experience the combined cruel symptoms of magical backlash and a drinking binge. She had set the building on fire, the one where Dru and the Ripper were... doing horribly naughty naked things. Then, she had gotten extremely drunk with William... and where exactly had her clothing gone? She was naked, in a bed. Soft sheets and warm blankets had kept her as comfortable as she would get, but she was most definitely naked. She did not remember taking her clothing off last night.  
  
What all had she done last night? Other than burning the building down over and around Dru and the Ripper... She could remember discussing heartache with William. He still thought that she had been dating Spike. There had been mention of lemons being thrown at wounds, or had that been metaphorical? She had mentioned the killing of Slayers, and how she could alter the future by mentioning...  
  
Or by burning one of the key figures to death in a building a century before they could come to Sunnydale. She had just shattered the timeline, quite irreversibly. No Dru meant that she wouldn't be attacked by an angry mob in Prague, and Spike wouldn't go to Sunnydale to help her heal. She wouldn't have suggested the order of Taraka, or assembling the Judge, which had lead to Buffy and Angel... breaking his curse. Oh, she had talked at length about the curse. What if William told Angelus, and Angelus DIDN'T kill the gypsy girl and therefore didn't get his soul? That would set all sorts of changes into motion. Possibly bad changes. What could Angelus accomplish in another century of freedom? Willow cringed, and once again wondered what had happened to her clothes.  
  
She was fairly certain that she hadn't removed them. So, someone else had to have done it. Had William undressed her? Had he seen her naked? Had he had her naked and at his mercy last night? If so, why hadn't he done something about it? She felt herself blushing at the idea, and more at the fact that she sort of liked it. The whole handsome naughty man taking advantage of the sleeping maiden was just so much like something out of a bad romance novel... But that didn't change two simple facts. One - she was naked. Two - she was certain nothing else had happened.  
  
Peering around the room, she found a pile of what looked like fabrics. It proved to be a mostly folded set of clothing, not her original things, or even what she had been wearing last night. She pulled them on carefully, every movement feeling like agony. Staggering a little, she moved from the bedroom to a hallway, and with one hand trailing along the wall, she slowly walked along until she came to a dreadful obstacle, a set of stairs. Groaning with dismay, Willow very slowly moved down the stairs. Eventually, she made her way to the bottom, and a lucky turn brought her to a place where she could get one of the most wonderful thing in the world: a cup of cool water to wash this vile taste from her mouth.  
  
Slowly, she wandered back away from the kitchen, eventually finding a familiar leather couch. She allowed her body to collapse onto it, and inhaled, catching the familiar scent of Spike... William. It had permeated the leather, soaked up the scent of him, holding his presence here even when he was gone. Smiling, Willow allowed her eyelids to sink closed, and she settled into a light sleep, her dreams filled with Spike, and William. Filled with the sorts of passionate interludes that had never happened with their waking flesh.  
  
When she next woke, she was surrounded by the scent of leather, and of William. There was also a hand stroking her hair. She still ached, and her head wasn't happy yet, but she felt much better. Before, she would have been tempted to ask a vampire to kill her, simply to make the pain stop. Now? She simply didn't feel good. Besides, she could only imagine one person in this whole century stroking her hair like that. "Hey, William. What time is it?"  
  
"Almost sunset. I've had a lot of time to think. Or drink... although if I remember correctly, we did both of those last night. It was all real, wasn't it? No chance that it was just a very detailed bad dream?" His blue eyes were filled with pain and sorrow.  
  
"I'm a bit fuzzy on some of last night. I remember that horrible building, and the poor sacrificed mutilated woman. That we walked in on something I would dearly, dearly love to forget seeing. Then we... I burned the building down. Then that backlash hit me, and there was a couch, and alcohol... we talked about pain. Somehow, lemons came into the conversation." Willow was staring at him, memorizing the smooth, unbroken line of his eyebrow.  
  
"You were all worried that by talking about the future, you would change it. But we already did. Dru is dead, that's going to change a lot." William's fingers had moved, and now they were caressing her cheek.  
  
Willow winced, sinking lower on the couch, as if attempting to disappear. "oooh, we did. We really messed up the future. I have no idea how much this will change things, but it's going to be really big. This has got to be really bad for my karma... although, a lot of the things I remember Dru doing or causing were among the lines of violence and pain, so, maybe only naughty for my karma instead of really awful?"  
  
"Red, any power that actually looks at you will know you were only trying to help. You didn't want to mess up fate. You didn't want to end up with me getting my unbeating heart stomped on. Probably better to find out now rather than later. There's also the simple fact that of all the times I've gone out with someone for a bit of mayhem, it's never been quite so impressive as what we did last night. You're sweet and good, but you can be wickedly bad if you let it come out. I could teach you all about being bad." His eyes had gone dark with intense emotion, and the air of his words curled over her cheeks, caressing her skin.  
  
She looked at him, his face only inches away, his eyes focused on her, and felt her insides flutter with something. Her words were a faint whisper. "You want to show me how to be bad?"  
  
William smiled, golden flecks appearing in his eyes, like tiny fires on an ocean. "Let me show you the wonders of the night." His lips covered hers in a kiss. It started out slow, his lips caressing hers, his tongue tracing her lips, teasing them open, and sliding inside of her mouth.  
  
It didn't stay quite so slow and gentle. Soon, their hands were roving over chests, shoulders and arms, their bodies close together, so close that Willow could feel every line of muscle on him, and he could count each rapid beat of her heart. It was as if he were devouring her, trying to taste her essence by kiss. Willow was kissing back just as intently, learning the contours of his mouth, the shape of his teeth, the feel of his lips and tongue.  
  
Finally, his lips pulled away from her, and he kissed over her cheek, and along the side of her neck, causing Willow to melt against him, her knees going weak with pleasure and anticipation. Somehow, her blouse had slipped down, leaving her flesh exposed to his explorative fingers, and he was touching her, teasingly skimming over her curves, feather light touches that were driving her crazy.  
  
She felt something almost like a pinching sensation, and then his teeth slid through the skin over her throat, and she could feel her blood flooding his mouth, coursing down his throat. An oddly primal sound of pleasure escaped her, and she pulled him closer, offering herself to him. Let her just have this one night... one night with him, all of him, man and demon, all hers, let her drown and crumble under his desire...  
  
His lips pulled away, and she could feel him licking at her throat, the world having shrank to a narrow point of light. The pleasure and blood loss had left her dizzy again. Was this dying? Would he turn her, make her his childe to have at his side forever? As if from a distance, she heard his voice.  
  
"Not yet, luv. You're so passionate, so warm... I want to feel you warm around me before I turn you. I want to feel myself sinking into your heat... but not tonight. I'm sorry, red. I took too much... and this is the sort of thing you should be awake and participating in. Should have remembered... shouldn't have drank so much so close to you being shot. But you will be mine, my flame haired childe... my lover and partner for the rest of our nights. Rest now..."  
  
end part 15.  
  
Willow woke slowly. Realizing that not only was she not dead, she had not been... well, apparently things had come to a crashing halt last night. Had it actually been last night? Had she really almost had sex or been drained by William? Why had he stopped if her memories of what had happened were accurate? Her fingers moved, brushing over the side of her throat, feeling a deep mark, a twinge of pain flaring at her touch.  
  
Hadn't he said something about wanting to feel her around him? That had... between that and the touching, she had been so certain that he had wanted her, even if only for the night, even if only to let her go with a rush of passion and pleasure. There were hundreds of worse ways that a person could die. Actually, she had seen dozens of horrible deaths in Sunnydale, and a couple more here. Like burning to death...  
  
Willow shivered, feeling cold at the accidental reminder of what she had done. She carefully pulled herself from the bed, whispering the words of the healing spell again. Was she doomed to a pattern? Get injured, pass out with William's mouth over her wound, bleeding and crumpling against him, only to wake up weak, shaky and alone? She didn't like the idea at all. If he was going to drink enough to make her pass out, then couldn't she wake up with him? 'Oh, bad Willow... we... I just burned his obsession to death, and now I'm lusting after him. Even more, what if he doesn't want me? Well... I know he did a little last night, I felt... and wow, but... did it mean anything to him? Did I imagine him sounding sad that I wasn't very awake? Did he say something about a lover? Arggh, this is important, and I can't remember.'  
  
Did she even deserve the chance to be happy? To have something so passionate after what she had done? She frowned as she slowly combed out the tangles in her hair. Life wasn't fair, things didn't always go the way that they had 'deserved' to go. That was why Jesse had died, why Buffy was the Slayer, why Giles didn't have Jenny anymore... maybe she could have some measure of happiness? Yes, she would snatch desperately for this chance at happiness, and cling as long as it lasted. Besides, it wasn't as if there was anyone waiting for her to return. She didn't have a special someone, or a true love that simply couldn't be with her. She would see if she could find a little happiness here.  
  
Right, she had made up her mind. Try to be as happy as she could with William for as long as it lasted. But first, she really needed to eat something. Red meat... there had to be a kitchen here somewhere, had to be food. She moved out of the room, her hair finally combed, in search of something to eat. Something to help replenish her energy. Then... maybe she would have to go find William again, see if he always slept naked.  
  
She found the kitchen, and helped herself to a generous helping of foods. A small corner of her mind wondered if this food was kosher, before deciding that as it was in the house of a vampire, probably not, and that since it had been a while since she worried about kosher foods, there was no point in starting now. She decided to just eat, and not worry about how kosher the food was. Her practicing magic probably made her life rather non-kosher anyhow. She was having to many thoughts again.  
  
"Too many thoughts... and so few of them worth it. Hmm... I wonder if there's any coffee?" She noticed that at some point she had gone from just thinking about things to actually muttering out loud.  
  
"No coffee, luv. Perhaps we can get you by with a strong cup of tea?" William's voice filled the kitchen, practically touching her with it's overtones, and making something inside of Willow quiver in hope and anticipation.  
  
"I guess that will have to do. I'll need to make some adjustments for living in this time anyhow... at least, until I can find a way to go home." Willow's voice was soft, but it betrayed a distinct lack of enthusiasm.  
  
"You don't want to go home? What about your Spike? Your friend the Slayer?" William's voice was curious.  
  
Willow sighed, putting water into a pot for tea as William lit the stove for her. "He's... not really my Spike. And it's pretty obvious that I can't keep a guy... assuming they even notice, I'm not enough for them. As for Buffy... she has Riley and his soldiers for help now. I'm not even useful to help her research. Xander was my friend, but... he doesn't have time for me anymore. Why race to get back to an empty house? I have no lover, my friends don't have time for me, and my parents are in... were they in France or Greece this month? My parents weren't there, and they weren't exactly there for me when they were in the same state, if that makes any sense."  
  
William stepped closer, sliding an arm around her hip, curving his hand over her stomach, leaning his chin on her shoulder. "Then stay here. I can teach you everything you need to be bad, to release your inner fire. How to bring people quivering into submission at your feet... I can show you passion beyond your wildest dreams... pleasures beyond anything you've tasted."  
  
Willow leaned back, feeling his body behind her, enjoying the feeling of him holding her. "Come to the dark side... together we can rule this galaxy. Except that you look so much better than Darth Vader... I thought you didn't want me? Why else... I mean, we didn't... there wasn't any wildest dreams of passion happening last night. It was last night, wasn't it? Did I miss an entire day?"  
  
William chuckled, the feeling transmitting to her body by proximity. "That was last night, luv. You didn't loose a whole day. I promise, I want you... in my bed, under me, on top of me, screaming my name in pleasure and lust and passion. Last night... I got a bit carried away. You're mortal, and while I can't wait to feel how warm you'll be, I'm not used to the idea of a lover that's quite so fragile. I took a bit much blood, especially considering the injury to your leg. As for the wild passion... I always thought that would be more enjoyable with someone who was awake and participating."  
  
He kissed the mark on her neck, and then kissed it again, his tongue caressing it. Willow gasped, the feeling so much nicer than when her fingers had brushed it when she had woke up, and leaned into him. One hand was wrapped around her waist, supporting her against his body, while the other was caressing patterns over her ribs, with delicate touches over the curve of her breast, teasing little touches that were reducing Willow to whimpering putty in his hands.  
  
"Let me make it up to you... Let me feel how warm and passionate you can be. You've no idea how attentive I can be for you... how good I can make you feel." His words were a bare hint of sound and air against her ear.  
  
"mmmm ... you are evil. Utter temptation... the accent, those gorgeous eyes, the cheekbones... Oh! talented tongue... strong hands... nothing so tempting can be good for me... oh, right there..." Willow's words were low, deepening with desire as he teased her body, suggesting all the pleasures that he could show her.  
  
"Do you want to be good? Or would you rather" His tongue caressed her ear, before his teeth grazed carefully over her throat. " rather be bad?"  
  
"I've been good my whole life. As a result, I'm almost twenty and alone, with only a couple friends... I want to try something else now... oh god, do that again... show me passion, please?" She didn't care anymore if it was wrong. She didn't care if he was still grieving over Dru's betrayal and death. All Willow was aware of right now was the muscled solidness of his body behind her, especially a certain very male part of him, and the rising desire and need for him that she felt.  
  
end part 16.  
  
She woke up slowly, her limbs feeling heavy and stiff. As awareness returned, Willow realized that she was naked, her body entwined with an equally naked William. She felt herself smiling and blushing as she remembered last night. She and William... they had been very passionate together. She wanted to believe that they had made love, that she actually mattered to him as more than a willing partner, but she couldn't be certain. He had spoke of passion, and wanting her to be screaming his name in lust and pleasure and passion... which had definitely happened. But... was that it? Was there anything more?  
  
Willow gave a small smile at the turn of her thoughts. Twenty four hours ago, she would have been delighted simply at the prospect of intimately being with William. Now, that wasn't enough, she wanted him to care for her as well. Couldn't she just manage to be happy with what she could get while it lasted? She should have gotten the idea by now that nothing very good would ever last very long, not for her.  
  
Glancing at the various marks their passion had left, Willow could only smile again at the memories. Carefully, she slipped her limbs separate from his, reluctantly leaving the bed. She pulled on a robe, presumably William's, and headed downstairs to get something to eat. She was having trouble remembering what she'd last eaten and when.  
  
She sighed, stabbing at the vegetables on her plate. It had occurred to her that she should consider looking for a way home, but she didn't even know where to start. More problematic, there was still the man that had tried to kill her, shooting her and William with the crossbow. She didn't even know why he had done it. She would almost certainly have a scar from it, and she didn't know why. Every other time she'd been seriously injured, there had been a reason, even if that reason was only that the thing responsible was evil and wanted to cause mayhem and bloodshed.  
  
Could she even go home? Was it possible that there was no way to return to her proper century? What if she was stuck here in the eighteen hundreds with William for the rest of her life? That might not be so bad, actually... Oh dear, forced to stay with the incredibly sexy vampire that had just taken her through all sorts of passionate activities… Yes, she could live with that. Or unlive, if he decided to turn her. That idea made her shiver just a little, half worried how a vampire Willow turned here and now would develop.  
  
Why did she keep thinking about going back to Sunnydale anyhow? It wasn't as if there would be anyone waiting to welcome her back with open arms. What did Sunnydale have that London didn't? That was worth going back to, that is? Running water, electricity, hot showers... computers and telephones, and no guys with crossbows trying to kill her. Hmm... well, maybe there was a few advantages to the twentieth century. Oh, yes, and a whole library of books to use for research.  
  
But if she left, she wouldn't have William. Well, maybe it could be argued that what was going on now wasn't healthy, but... she had fallen for him. Hopelessly head over heels for him, and it didn't matter to her that he was dead, that he killed people, that he bit her and she had killed his Dru only days ago, she wanted to cling to what she could get as long as it would last. To build as many memories as possible with William. To snatch what fragments of pleasure and happiness that she could.  
  
"I'm putting way to much thought into this. I'm here, and most likely, I'm going to stay here in this time. Best make the most of it." Having come to what she hoped was a decision about her current time, she decided to go sit and think about the person that had shot both her and William with a crossbow.  
  
Considering the fact that the bolts had been carved with crosses, and possibly tiny letters around their shafts, whoever had shot them knew about vampires, and knew how to hurt them. It didn't explain why she had been shot, unless it was the idea that anyone with a vampire had to be a vampire or the next meal. Could the man have been a Watcher? Obviously, there were Watchers in this time, and a Watcher would have the knowledge and access to the weaponry. How could she tell if he was? What did it mean if he wasn't, who would he be working with and why shoot her and William? Finally, an idea occurred to Willow: use a scrying spell to try to gather information about her attacker. All she would need would be a bowl of water, some salt, and time, and that shouldn't be too difficult.  
  
She found them easily enough, choosing a dark bowl so that the images would be more visible. Settling the bowl onto the table, she tried to clear away her worries about her relationship with William, about Sunnydale, about being killed in this time, and focused her mind on the half glimpsed figure of her attacker. Slowly, the water seemed to darken, and an image formed, a man with brown hair, dressed in a slightly worn suit. He was standing in front of a shelf with what seemed to be many books, and appeared to be talking to an earnest looking young man holding a stack of loose pages. She had no idea what was being said, but it looked as if the man was running some sort of store. He was moving now, checking another shelf, and was limping slightly, as if his right side pained him, or had been bruised escaping an angry vampire. She continued to watch, trying to learn anything of use, and then he looked upwards, as if hearing something, and she saw his face clearly. He reminded her of Giles.  
  
Willow gasped, the surprise breaking her concentration, and the image was lost. The man looked like Giles. She had been shot by a Giles? Surely her Giles wasn't the first of his family, hadn't he said something about a family tradition of working for the Watcher's Council? And wanting to be a shop-keeper when he was a small boy? Well, actually, she thought it had been 'a shop-keeper, or possibly a fighter pilot.'  
  
"Giles' ancestor or great uncle or great something cousin was trying to kill me. But why?" She whispered the question out loud, not expecting any sort of answer.  
  
"Wasn't Giles the Watcher to the Slayer you mentioned? Fluffy?" William's voice was practically a caress all by itself.  
  
Willow looked over at William, feeling herself smile at the sight of him. "Yeah, and her name was Buffy. I just can't figure out why he was trying to kill me. I mean, those bolts looked like they were made for vampires, which I'm not, and I hadn't even been here long enough to annoy anyone but you so I can't figure out why I was being shot."  
  
"Not a hobby of yours? Ah, I'll just find him later and kill him, then he won't be a problem anymore. I thought maybe we should have a little chat about the future, now that we're both sober and all." He placed his hand over Willow's, settling on the couch beside her.  
  
end part 17.  
  
William shifted his weight, making himself more comfortable, still holding Willow's hand. "I wanted to talk to you about the future. Not Sunnydale future, but along the lines of what's going to happen next, with us."  
  
Willow felt her insides tense, wondering if he was going to tell her that she shouldn't get her hopes up, that she was just a silly willing mortal... But a part of her was remembering his words, his promise that he'd 'turn her in a heartbeat'. Maybe he wasn't preparing for the brush-off speech? "Okay... the short term future. Although I'm not sure that I could make it back to Sunnydale if I tried..."  
  
"Don't. Stay here, with me. I offered a place in the family to you before, and I meant it. Only, I don't think I'd be willing to let you walk away anymore. I want you, want you to be mine, to stay with me, to become my Childe, part of the Order of Aurelius." He was watching her, his eyes locked onto hers as if he intended to convey his seriousness through his gaze as well as his words.  
  
She felt something inside snap loose, a thread of fear and doubt. He wanted her, wanted her to stay, to become his Childe, to belong with him. Tears welled in her eyes, and she flung her arms around him in a joyful hug. "Nobody ever wanted me in their family before..."  
  
As Willow clung to him, part of her simply delighting in the novel feeling of being wanted, an unwelcome image floated tot he surface of her mind, rising from her memory like a killer shark. "oh... Vampire Willow... she was not fun. I don't think that you'd like her."  
  
"Err... what? How would you know what a vampire you would be like? Why wouldn't I have liked her?" His voice showed puzzlement.  
  
"ummm that's actually a bit complicated. To summarize, there was this alternate reality created, and in that world, I'd... umm, that Willow had been turned into a vampire when she.. I... she was sixteen. I was trying to help someone with a spell, and we accidentally brought VampWillow into my world, and well, she caused some problems." Willow could feel herself blushing as she remembered her vampire twin.  
  
"You got to see yourself as a vampire? Was she one of the not eeeuuu looking ones? Why wouldn't I have liked her?" William was smiling, wondering why Willow seemed so disturbed by her vampire doppelganger.  
  
Considering his question, Willow carefully considered the quiet, secretive conversation that she'd had with VampWillow before sending her home. "She was... yeah, she was pretty, although not my type, being female and, umm... me. She wore this tight leather outfit, which was rather binding, and these tall heels... But I think you would have been more upset at her recreational habits. She was sort of... skanky, actually. I mean, she was having sex with the Master, who had turned her, and he's so not what I want to picture naked, and she had Vampire Xander as her playmate and hunting partner, and she had her umm... 'Puppy' that she kept chained up in her own private dungeon, and I think she was hitting on... er, trying to seduce Cordelia, although that may have been just so she could kill her..."  
  
"Binding leather? Now that would have been a sight..." William was clearly trying to picture it, his eyes half closed and flecked with amber.  
  
"I can show you. All that would take would be a simple illusion spell, and you could see exactly what she looked like, although it wouldn't be real. I mean, not really in the leather, and not really a vampire, just... sort of a magical costume."  
  
"Show me..." His eyes had snapped open at her offer.  
  
Nervous, Willow stood up, and whispered a few phrases, watching as a shimmer of green gold sparkles cascaded over her, replacing the way she should look with the image of VampWillow. Her hair was longer, and a bit darker, her skin pale with the careful makeup accenting her eyes. Her body was hugged by the black leather, the burgundy sleeves hanging to her wrists. Deliberately, she'd chosen an image of her evil twin in her vamp-face, showing golden eyes and sharp teeth. She looked right at him before she spoke. "Well, what do you think?"  
  
She barely even had time to register that he'd moved before he was standing there, kissing her fiercely, hands sliding over the leather that the clothing had inexplicably transformed into. He was barely willing to let her have a moment for breath, intent of making his claim known to her, a low growl in his chest. By the time he actually said anything, Willow was so caught up in the passion he'd stirred up that she almost missed his words.  
  
"Damn all, luv, you aren't just a pretty vampire, you're gorgeous. Quite the picture of seduction... Effective seduction, mind you." He was pressed against her, so close that he could feel her heart beating, and she could feel exactly how much he liked the sight of her like this.  
  
"I'm getting the feeling that our talk about the future is over for tonight... Shall we go somewhere... more private?"  
  
end part 18. 


	4. parts 19 to 24

Willow sighed contentedly as she considered the turns that her life had taken over the past few weeks. She had accidentally flung herself back in time, met William who wasn't calling himself Spike yet, and incinerated the building where Dru was cheating on William with Jack the Ripper. They'd walked by there last night, and the place had burned down to the ground, even the stones had cracked and shattered from the heat, and everything was blackened with soot. The air was still heavy with the scent of ashes; it had even burned away the scents of blood and fear and pain that had been so horribly thick in the old warehouse. The fire had been a clensing agent, even if it had been a terrible and destructive cleansing.  
  
Now, she and William were lovers. He was also teaching her about the history of the Order of Aurellius, and about the laws and traditions of vampires in general. All that education was in preparation, he intended to turn her and make her his Childe, and his consort. Together, he thought that they could rule London, become a power that would set other vampires trembling. Some of the history and traditions were dark and bloody, but it was still fascinating. The idea that he wanted her to be at his side, ruling territory for the rest of time still made her heart speed up and her breath grow short. She had never felt so wanted, so desired and appreciated.  
  
Part of her, the part that had fought so long to keep Sunnydale safe, wondered if she should be here, with a vampire that wanted to rule, a vampire that would be willing to casually kill. A soulless killer who sometimes reveled in the pain of others. The fact that he was also devastatingly attractive and intelligent and thought that she was attractive and desirable and interesting didn't make him a good guy. Nor did his occasional moments of almost human emotion, like his pain and shocked anguish at Dru's betrayal, or his concern over her injuries make him one of the good guys. A not so small part of her knew that this was what it meant to be seduced over to the dark side, and it was working.   
  
But he wanted her to learn, to grow and understand things, to master new skills. He was teaching her history and tradition, and he'd even promised to help her improve her Greek. He had found a few books on magic so that she could try to practice and improve her skills, and didn't try to tell her that she shouldn't find a magical solution to her problems. He was encouraging her to grow, to become more than she had been, and that was something that she had wanted for a long time. She welcomed his interest like parched earth welcomes the rain, and tried her best to stay too busy to worry about the fact that he was trying... succeeding in luring her to the dark side.  
  
She shook her head, trying to shake away the lingering feelings of guilt. She had given years to keeping people safe, to stopping horrible demons and would be End-of-the-World's. All it had gained her was injury and social ostracism, and the loss of the one guy who had ever shown an interest in her before, Oz. It wasn't as if she would be trying to destroy the world, or as if she... they would allow chaotic and vicious demons free reign to slaughter and terrorize in their domain. Why shouldn't she try to find a little happiness in her existence?  
  
She had a flicker of memory, bright blue eyes and frost pale hair, scent of leather and cigarettes... Spike. Spike had shown some compassion for her pain, had listened as she gave voice to her pain.  
  
Spike wouldn't be waiting for her to come back. He hated being in Giles house, hated depending on anyone else for help, for blood. Granted, he was a lot less hostile to her, listened to her talk, told her about his own pain... but that didn't mean that he would miss her. He hadn't been nearly as vicious towards her as he had to Xander or Buffy, and she had actually become quite... No. She was trying to deceive herself. Somewhere between sobbing her heart out about Oz and listening to his misery over Dru and his frustration over the chip, she had developed feelings for Spike. Now, part of her wanted to go back because he was there, even as the rest of her knew that there was no point, no hope. He had loved Dru, and wouldn't have seen her that way, right?  
  
Growling a bit with frustration, she gestured some candles alight, and scowled at her hands. Why had she developed feelings for Spike? Why was she only figuring it out now, when she had been with William? There were differences between the two, more than just the matter of hair and clothing. Why did she feel as if she were somehow cheating on William by caring about Spike, who was his future, or alternate future self? Why did she feel as if she was cheating on Spike by being with William? She'd never had Spike, would never have him, and he'd never... there was no reason to feel that way. But emotions didn't respond to reason, she'd figured that out a long time ago.  
  
She was here, in the late eighteen hundreds with William. He wanted her, appreciated her, and had been showing her passionate things that she had only imagined before, sometimes not even that. She wouldn't find herself magically returned to her own time, to the life she had known before. All she could do was make the best of this new life.  
  
Things would be alright, they really would. She could learn the traditions and laws of vampires. With practice, her magic would get better, and she would be able to do even more controlled and difficult things. William was loyal, he wouldn't cheat on her, wouldn't betray her with the first skanky singer that came alone. She could make a future here, could learn to be very happy here, with William.  
  
What Willow had no way of dreaming was that in Sunnydale, in the time that she had been gone, Spike and Giles had been searching for a way to return her. Things had also began to subtly shift, a sure sign that wherever Willow had sent herself, it had been the past, and by her presence, she had somehow changed history. They had both begun keeping small notebooks to record any changes in history and memory while still frantically searching for a way to bring Willow back.  
  
William the Bloody was still trying to figure out why neither the Slayer or Harris remembered Dru. He'd brought her here, the Slayer had fought them both... and hadn't she tried something with the boy? The memories were fading for him, and he was finding it harder to remember things with Dru, except for her numerous betrayals, things burned so deeply and painfully into his mind and heart that he couldn't forget. For some reason, the Watcher wasn't remembering Dru very well either. He wondered exactly what that meant in regards to the changing of time that Willow seemed to have caused.  
  
But his dreams hadn't changed. He still dreamed of HER, his vibrant, passionate goddess, as unattainable now as she had ever been. But in his dreams... oh, in his dreams she was very attainable. His sleep was filled with images of HER, images that seemed so real, so detailed that he would almost suspect that they were memories. But he had never had HER with him in London. London had been Angelus and Darla and Dru, and then himself and Dru when the older pair had separated for a while…  
  
Giles was hopeful though. Seems being the last male Giles still alive had given him a nice inherited library, including some very nice spell books. He'd dug them out of storage, and it was possible that he might have something that could help them bring Willow back. Perhaps it was a good thing that something hadn't killed him yet, as his ancestors had been hunted down and killed.  
  
The Slayer had come back, and she was blathering on about her new boy toy, some assistant teacher of something at her college. She also couldn't seem to remember or understand why Willow had vanished. Yes, she said that it was horrible that Oz was gone, but, Willow wouldn't run away over that, Willow didn't run. She seemed entirely oblivious to the fact that Willow had magic. Or maybe she had forgotten.  
  
He realized that he was growling slightly as he contemplated the Slayer and the boy. Neither of them were concerned enough about Willow, they didn't seem to realize just how serious her disappearance actually was. And with this bloody chip, he couldn't even hurt them enough to make them care. Suddenly, it occurred to him. Hadn't Willow said that she'd taken up with magic after Angel's soul had gone? There was something nagging at him about the whole soul thing with his sire, it didn't sound right. Why would his sire have had a soul? When had his sire ever been a significant influence of Willow anyhow? He'd barely had any contact with anyone while he'd been in Sunnydale, essentially just wanting to ensure that Darla and the Master had been destroyed. Their deaths had left Angelus the undisputed leader of their branch of the Order. What did Angelus have to do with Willow?  
  
"Rupert? Had a thought occur while I was growling at your daft Slayer. Do you remember Willow ever using magic? It's important, especially the way the past keeps changing on us." Internally, Spike was hoping for an answer, but he wasn't certain if he wanted Giles to say that he did remember, or that he didn't.  
  
Giles sat down, polishing his glasses as he did. "Willow using magic... Sort of. It almost like trying to remember a dream. There was some sort of restoration ritual, but I can't remember what she was restoring. I seem to remember her casting a few relatively complex bindings, but... the only thing that I can remember clearly is the potion that revealed Miss Madison to be a witch. Maybe Jenny remembers something else."  
  
With those words, and the renewed questions about how accurately they were remembering the past, Giles went to the kitchen to see if his wife could remember any more about Willow and magic.  
  
end part 19.  
  
In Sunnydale, Rupert Giles and William were trying to find a way to bring Willow back. Giles wanted her back because she was the daughter he'd always wanted, and the stabalizing influence on Buffy. He wasn't quite certain why William wanted her back, and he wasn't certain if it was a motivation from the old timeline or from the new one that they seemed to be blending over into. Giles could only hope that William didn't plan something that would hurt Willow. Just because he was chipped didn't make him harmless, and there was this nagging matter of some sort of promise that he had claimed to have made to Willow.  
  
Giles was hoping to bring her back before the timeline shattered, or twisted so far that things would be unrecognizable. Some of the major things had remained the same so far, Jesse dying, Buffy killing both the Master and Darla, and the statue of Acathala being found in a construction site. But there seemed to be things changing. He'd had nightmares about being tied down and questioned by an unseen person for weeks after they'd destroyed Acathala. Buffy had dreams featuring a mysterious man with dark hair, somone that had helped her on patrols and stolen kisses. Nobody seemed to have any idea who he was.  
  
It was just such a good thing that the Initiative had captured William when he'd come seeking the Gem of Amara during the teens' senior year. He'd escaped, learned that the Mayor had planned on an Ascension, and bargained his assistance in translating some books in exchange for blood and the Slayer not pursuing him while he was under the influence of whatever the soldiers had done to him. They had been reluctant to trust him at first, but he'd gradually convinced everyone that he had been truthful when he said he couldn't hurt humans. And he was quite good with languages.  
  
Heaven only knows how they would have managed to foil the Ascension without his help. But William's motives were far from altruistic, considering that he'd said he liked the world the way it was, with Manchester United, and all the people like Happy Meals on legs. He was currently their ally, but he wasn't their friend. Except for possibly Willow. The chipped vampire had been getting to know more and more about Willow, sitting beside her at research, partnering with her on patrols, helping her train with weapons. He could still spar, as long as he wasn't actually trying to hurt his partner. Practically speaking, that left Willow, Jenny, and Xander's new girlfriend Anya.  
  
Having consulted the Watcher's Journals, Giles had made the chilling discovery that it was all because of William the Bloody, part of the Scourge of Europe, that he was the last living Giles male. The vampire had been hunting and killing members of the Giles family for a bit over a century, and nobody knew why. He'd been afraid to ask, and intensely glad of the chip. He rather liked being alive.  
  
Instead, he worried about how to bring Willow back to them from wherever she had ended up in the past. They would need a powerful spell, and a good helping of luck. More so because she had not been sent to a specific point. But she was needed, they were all feeling her absence. He didn't want to think what might happen to her if she wasn't brought back to her proper time, or whatever resembled it now that time and history had been altered.  
  
He also worried about what sort of promise William could have made to Willow. He could remember the vampire mentioning this promise when he'd first come to them, shortly before the graduation. As he remembered, he'd asked Willow about it, but she hadn't known any more than he had. That troubled him more and more.  
  
London, 1888  
  
Willow glared at the pages before her. She was trying to decipher a bit of writing on vampire laws, but she wasn't getting very far. Either the phrasing wasn't making any sense, or she had mistranslated some of the words. "This wasn't what I'd expected when he said he'd help me improve my Greek."  
  
Standing in the doorway, William watched her. There was a small, amused smile as he watched Willow glaring and muttering at the book, sitting in an oddly twisted posture that didn't look like it could possibly be comfortable for her, but it must have been. Why else would she have chosen to use it? He was taking delight in hearing her grumble about 'ancient vampires with terrible handwriting' and 'dratted spots on the page, what is that anyhow?'  
  
He wondered how much of her personality would change when he turned her. Sometimes, things stayed almost the same when a person was turned, other times, only parts remained, a few things here and there. He didn't want to do without her, she was cunning, intelligent, and beautiful, with the fact that she was a powerful witch being a delightful bonus. She would make a perfect childe, and they would rule London. He just hoped that she would be as delightful to spend time with as a vampire as she was while mortal.  
  
The time would be soon. He didn't want to risk that crazed man with the crossbow striking again, especially since his Red could die simply from loosing too much blood. Maybe he could find the man and bring him back to be his fiery Princess' first meal? Yes, that sounded very good indeed. After all, she would need someone solid for her first meal, and fear always made the blood taste a bit more intense. It was a plan then, he would turn her as soon as he caught the crossbow man.  
  
Maybe it was time to start trying to find the man.  
  
But for the moment, he had more immediate plans for his Willow. She was like a fiery, passionate goddess at times. So incredibly intense, and so very attainable. The idea made him smile with anticipation. The idea that he would make her his for the rest of time almost made his head spin with glee and passion. She would become part of his family, his Childe. He'd promised, after all.  
  
end part 20.  
  
The careful stalking of the man occupied a portion of his time, in the later parts of the night. He'd decided that it would be best to find the man and remove the threat of him swiftly, before he could cause any more problems. But the man had proved rather elusive so far, which had rapidly become a source of frustration.  
  
William spent his evenings with his sweet Willow, teaching her the laws and traditions of vampires, helping her study Greek, and listening as she spoke of the things that she'd read about in the few books on magic and sorcery that he'd found for her. She was growing in confidence and to his eyes that only made her more desirable. She was more confident in her power, and seemed to have finally accepted the fact that there would be no returning to Sunnydale. She still occasionally seemed troubled by something, most likely the cheating bastard of a boyfriend that had broken her heart before her arrival here, in this time. What sort of person called himself Spike anyhow?  
  
She would be his most wondrous creation. She was intelligent and cunning, able to create devious plans already. She'd mentioned some methods for removing a few threats to his territory, threats from other demons. But her plans had been marvelous examples of gaining the maximum results from a minimum of effort and risk. Her plans depended on being well prepared and playing on the weaknesses of the enemy, rather than depending solely upon her strength, or even his. If she could form such plans now, as a mortal only willing to plan the downfall of demons, rival vampires and other 'evil, nasty things', how much more delightful would her plans become when he turned her?  
  
He found himself wondering if her delight in learning and creativity would remain, and how it would express itself after her change. Would she study torture and interrogation? Would Willow become the mistress of dark and terrible spells? She would remain powerful, that much he was certain of. He just hoped that his Childe Willow would retain the loyalty that he'd seen in her mortal behavior. If she were to prove a treacherous childe, he had no doubts that he would eventually fall. But maybe the time before that would be worth it?  
  
But no mortal can vanish forever, and eventually, he found the man's home. It turned out that his name was Arthur Giles, and he was a Watcher, one of those insufferable meddlers that trained Slayers. He hadn't liked Watchers before, on the general principal of the whole matter, but this one... now things were much more personal. This man had shot him with some sort of specially treated bolt that had burned, and had shot and nearly killed Willow as well. It was even worse that the closest that she had to family in her own time was a man named Giles. It was an unusual coincidence, and the irony of it made his teeth itch. Best not kill the man's boy then, best let the boy grow up to father the next generation, so his Red could have her mentor in the century ahead. But this one, he'd fathered a brat or two, and he'd shot William and Willow both, neither of which had done anything to draw his attention.  
  
It would be a pleasure to see him die. To watch him scream in fear and rage at his helplessness as lovely death claimed him. Yes, it would be the perfect first meal for his Red. All he had to do now was get him.  
  
The proper creation of a plan forced him to spend more time away from Willow over the next few days, time in which he watched the Giles house to determine the perfect bait to lure the Watcher from his house. Simply getting an invitation inside wouldn't work, the wife was too wary, and the children too shy of strangers. Finally, the perfect idea occurred to him, and an evil looking smile spread over his face as it all became clear.  
  
Arthur Giles fancied himself to be a defender of people, what better way to get him than by putting someone in danger? If they set fire to the neighbor's house, Arthur Giles would come out to help try to contain the fire. When he came out, he would grab him. It was not the most elegant plan, but... William was tired of spending so much time away from his Red Princess. The sooner he had Art, the sooner he could turn his Red and have her with him for the rest of forever.  
  
The fire was set, a very smoky blaze that would cause a great deal of fear and panic, especially considering the uneasiness that had been left by Willow's wailing green fire of the warehouse, and the work of an arsonist on the East Side. Yes, fire would certainly get people's attention. It was also one of the last things that a vampire would be expected to use. It worked perfectly, sending up huge clouds of acrid smoke that burned the back of the throat and stung the eyes. It's discovery caused panicked shouts, and the nearby houses came bustling to alertness, people lighting lamps and coming out in their pajamas to try to fight the smoke and flames. Among them was Arthur Giles.  
  
With a wicked smirk, William crept up behind the man, and slipped his arm around his throat, dragging him into the darkness with no more than a few choked noises from his prisoner.  
  
"You didn't really think I'd given up on you? Considering the way that bloody bolt you shot me with burned... I ought to torture you until the sun comes up. Fortunately for you, I have another plan. Don't bother calling for help, I'll just kill anyone who interferes." His voice was full of sinister amusement, almost begging for the man to bring more victims, more people to fall before him.  
  
The scent of the man's fear and his futile but enthusiastic struggles delighted William. He could feel his teeth itching with the desire to sink into the man's throat, to taste his fear... But the Watcher was for Willow. William was no fledgling unable to control his urges for even a short while. Besides, Willow would be far sweeter than this man could ever hope to be. He was still smiling, an expression of dark amusement as he dragged the man away with him.  
  
"You didn't realize it, but if it wasn't for you, I'd probably never have my Red. She's going to be my perfect bloody Princess, the new Queen of London's vampires. All because you had to go shooting people in the dark. You're going to be her first meal." His grin was quite fearsome as he caught the scents of despair and a hint of salty tears add into the mix.  
  
It wasn't very long before he'd reached the lair. Carefully, he tied the Watcher to a chair, secure enough that he couldn't escape, but not so tight as to eliminate the circulation. The fear was still rolling off the man, and William couldn't help but smirk at the mortal's expression. "I'll see you later. Right now, Red and I have some unfinished business."  
  
He went upstairs, knowing exactly where he would find Willow. She had taken to reading on the small walkway, claiming that the breeze kept her from feeling too stuffy, and reminded her of home. Tonight, he would bring her into the family. He was looking forward to it, but before he went to fetch her, he took a few minutes to prepare the bedroom. Rose petals all over the bed, and soft candle light making the room glow. Her description had been so vivid and interesting that he couldn't resist. Everything would be perfect.  
  
Silently, he made his way to the walkway, scooping her up in his arms. When he spoke, he couldn't quite keep the desire and something almost like pleading from his voice. "Found you, Red. I got a promise to keep tonight... come inside?"  
  
She wrapped her arms around him, their warmth seeping into his flesh. Her smile danced in her eyes. "I shouldn't... but you are my temptation."  
  
Tonight, he would make her his very own, his Childe. He'd promised, and this was one promise that he'd be willing to go to the ends of the earth to fulfill.  
  
end part 21.  
  
Sunnydale, 2001  
  
Giles and Jenny had put together a spell that should be enough to bring Willow back from when ever she had been sent to. Giles had been working himself into exhaustion trying to get everything ready, driven by a nagging sense of urgency. Jenny had been helping him, and they'd even had Buffy help with finding some of the ingredients. The Slayer was missing her friend, and had finally paid attention enough to find out that Willow was gone, and they would need a spell to bring her back.  
  
But as they had come closer and closer to being ready to bring them back, William had felt less urgent about the whole thing. Part of him was still furious that he was here forced to work with a Giles, unable to kill him or anyone else because of this wretched chip in his head. Another part of him knew that the Gem of Amara had been no more than an excuse for why he had stayed in this town. He had a promise to fulfill, and that promise hovered on the edges of his mind. He could almost remember what it was, but he knew down to his bones and demon that it was important. It wasn't a small measure, it was serious. And it was part of the reason that he'd been killing Giles's for over a century.  
  
He found himself wondering where Willow had ended up. Part of him insisted that he knew, that he knew EXACTLY what had happened, but it was a part that he couldn't quite reach, the part of him that remembered The Promise. He had a memory of green eyes filled with tears, and a soft voice 'there's nobody waiting for me back there.' It was odd how much that voice sounded like Willow. Maybe it wouldn't be such a terrible thing to let her stay when she was. "Watcher? Maybe she's happier there, where she's at now. Maybe she's found some people that will be there for her immediately, instead of waiting about a month before they worry like Harris and Fluffy did when that stupid wolf of hers got himself killed. Maybe she's made a new life, got a nice guy to take care of her, who knows how long she's even been there? What if you bring her back and she's someone's granny?"  
  
Anya supported him in his concerns, but then again, Anya had spent over a thousand years as a Vengeance demon before a wish that Cordelia had made against her cheating boyfriend Percy had summoned her to Sunnydale. There was still a bit of confusion on exactly how she had lost her powers, and William wasn't certain that he believed her, but she had (allegedly) lost her powers and been made human. Now, she was dating Xander Harris, apparently for the sex. She had also raised concerns about the wisdom of retrieving Willow, questions about possible disruptions of time and history, which Buffy had countered by saying the 'had' to bring Willow back, to 'minimize the time she could cause changes in'. Because neither he or Anya could come up with anything more than 'what if she's happy' or 'it could change history' it had been decided to go ahead with the spell.  
  
Giles and his wife Jenny formed one pair, and Buffy and Xander took the other two sides, sitting to chant some words and burn herbs to try to get Willow back. William had just growled in dismay, growing ever more certain that Willow had been happy where she was. He couldn't quite say why yet, but he could picture her, dressed in long skirts and sitting at a plump couch, glaring at a book written in Greek. He could remember her scent, mingled with linen and wool, a hint of frustration and the intense desire to learn. He had this flash of memory, Willow, her hair cut oddly short, just barely touching her shoulders instead of the nearly waist length cascade, dressed in pants and a peasant blouse, a crossbow bolt buried in her leg, blood staining her clothing and her face pale and filled with pain. But in the year that he'd been in Sunnydale, Willow had never been shot.  
  
William had gone outside, smoking a cigarette as he tried to figure out everything. He was getting these flickers of memory of Willow, but with short hair and so much pain in her eyes. Images of her in the clothing of a century ago, when he'd been in London. The clothing was from right about the time when Dru had gone off cheating with Jack the Ripper, and he'd asked the witch he'd met to burn the place down around the faithless tramp's ears. But when had he met a witch? How had he met her? He had a slightly fuzzy memory of a strangely dressed woman falling from the sky and landing on him, a woman whose skin had crackled with power. She'd had short red hair and pain filled green eyes... He'd kept her with him, planned to make her his childe. But he hadn't. Something had prevented it... and it had been because of a Giles. The memories were piecing together, forming whole pictures, and he found himself growling, suddenly furious about… something that he could almost remember.  
  
He could hear them chanting inside, smell the oils and herbs sending sharp scented smoke into the air. They were gathering power, and he could feel it, making the air heavy in a way not unlike humidity. A small shiver passed over him, and he could feel his hair prickling as the power gathered, so thick that he could almost taste it. His stomach flipped as he suddenly KNEW that they would bring her back to this time, to this place.  
  
London, 1888  
  
He'd carried Willow into the bedroom, and her reaction had been everything he'd hoped. She had been delighted with the candle light and rose petals, and her eyes had sparkled with tears of joy and happiness. She'd looked around with wide amazed eyes, as if... but surely someone would have been willing to pamper her as much as she'd deserved? Setting up such a pretty love nest wasn't that hard...  
  
"Nobody's ever done something like this for me..." Her soft whisper had been thick with amazement and something else that he couldn't quite place. The shine in her eyes had been tears of joy, and she'd turned to him, her lips seeking his.  
  
They had made love on the rose petals, passionately touching and caressing. He had wanted to feel her warmth around him one last time, to hear her breathing go ragged and uneven with pleasure. To watch her skin flush with her emotions.  
  
"Willow?" He'd murmured the words to her as they were laying there, limbs entwined on the bed.  
  
She opened her eyes slightly, slivers of emerald peering at him. One pale hand started tracing patterns over his chest, things which could have been runes or letters or perhaps nothing more than a curving caress. "hmmm?"  
  
"It's time. Tonight, you will become eternal." His voice betrayed some of his anticipation.  
  
Her eyes opened, wide with surprise and anticipation. There was no scent of fear, but a small hint of nervousness. "Forever... will it hurt?"  
  
His voice caressed her as easily as his fingers did. "Maybe a little sting, but this won't be an unpleasant experience for you."  
  
Her eyes were sparkling at she looked at him, right into his golden eyes. With a small smile, she reached up and brushed her hair away from the side of her neck.  
  
That simple gesture struck something inside of him, more forcefully than even the bolt he'd been shot with, and actually felt in his heart this time. He wasn't certain what to cal the odd feeling that her gesture gave him, but it felt all warm and liquid and reassuring. She had all but told him that she welcomed the idea of becoming his childe. His eyes prickled, and for a moment, everything was blurry. He blinked several times to make everything look proper again as he leaned over just a bit, running his tongue over her pulse, still faster than normal. He bit down over her pulse, hearing her soft gasp as his teeth went deeper into her throat, feeling her sweet blood flow into his mouth, hot and full of power.  
  
Power began to stir in the room, making the hair on the back of his neck prickle. It wasn't Willow's power, he had come to know the feel of her working, and this wasn't it. He tried to pull her closer, a sudden sense of dread filling him. This magic could not be anything good for him.  
  
In his arms, Willow murmured something... "Giles? No… not now…"  
  
William felt a moment's panicked denial. Hadn't she said the Watcher in her time knew something about magic? Magic was even now filling the room, making the air thick. Willow suddenly stiffened, her body tense with something, and he could taste a denial in her blood.  
  
"But I don't want to go back to loneliness..." Her whisper was filled with despair.  
  
She seemed to grow lighter in his arms, and as he tried frantically to hold her, she grew lighter, and the colors faded, and like a ghost, she vanished from his arms, leaving only a spot of blood on the sheets to mark her loss. The look of pain and loss in her eyes as she had felt the magic pulling her away, the way she had tried to cling to him with fingers that had nearly passed through him left something behind. A deep, horrible sense of loss, and a terrible rage. His Willow had been taken from him. Stolen away by a Giles from another century, dragged away from him to a time and place where nobody appreciated her, nobody brought forth her passion.  
  
"NO!!!" His bellow of rage echoed through the house. For a few anguished moments, he simply sat there, staring at the place where she had been, wondering what he could do now. And then it came back to him – he had the perfect scapegoat waiting downstairs.  
  
end part 22.  
  
The energies of the spell became even stronger, almost tangible, filling the room with a feeling of tension and something almost like pressure. There was something almost like a scream, more felt than heard, and then the air split. For a moment, there was a feeling of dizziness and disorientation, as if blinding lights and colors had filled the air, and their bodies had been spun forcefully around, which hadn't happened. By the time the four casters had regained enough of their bearings to see, there was a figure in the center of their careful diagram. Half concealed by a voluminous length of red fabric that looked like silk, a figure was sprawled. Short red hair spilled over pale skin, and pale slender arms held the fabric in place. A scattering of rose petals fell through with her, landing over the floor.  
  
The Slayer whooped with triumph, delighted that they had brought back Willow. It had to be Willow, even if her hair was almost gone, cut to her shoulders instead of the waist length ripples that they remembered.   
  
Xander was putting out the candles, gathering the incense and bowls of herbs and oil, carefully not looking as Jenny wrapped a large robe around Willow. Giles was busily releasing the containing wards, trying not to look at Willow.  
  
William stood in the doorway, breath caught in his throat. He'd felt the power, thick and almost choking in the room, something that he had felt once before, and then he had smelled it. The scent of her blood in the air, and a hint of passionate loving. He could do no more than stare at the shape on the floor, her pale arms and face contrasting to the red sheet. He remembered keeping the other half of the set with him until it had worn away, trying desperately to keep her scent with him, to keep something as a reminder of her. She was here, his wonderful Red, the woman that he'd promised to make part of his family, to make his Childe, his mate, to have her rule the night at his side.  
  
Her green eyes were wide, unfocused and almost glassy. She didn't look around her, barely seemed to notice when Jenny slid a long robe over her, over soft skin and supple curves that had haunted his dreams for over a century. She simply stood there, swaying a bit as the Slayer hugged her, babbling about how hard things had been without her and how much they had all missed her. He felt a growl in his chest at Harris hugged her, holding her close to him, breathing in her scent. Why did they have to keep touching her like that? She wasn't their precious willow-shaped friend, she was his Red, his glorious princess.   
  
He could only look at her, drinking in the sight of her, here once more after a century of waiting, of tormented longing and desires. She was just standing there, and there was a tiny trickle of blood flowing down the side of her neck touching the collar of the robe. He was vaguely aware that he was moving closer, drawn to her presence as a moth to flame.  
  
"Oh my God, she's bleeding!" Xander's voice rang through the room, startling the Watcher and the Slayer, making them look at the side of her neck. Ever the observant ones, weren't they?  
  
Giles spoke, his words full of concern. "She's been bitten, it looks quite deep..."  
  
As Giles attempted to clean and bandage the bite on her throat, her pulse remained steady. William released the breath that had been caught in relief. She wasn't dying, he wouldn't loose her again. Then, a new scent came from her, the subtle salty scent of tears rolling down soft cheeks. She was utterly silent, the only sounds from her the soft intakes of breath and the steady rhythm of her heartbeat, her tears falling soundlessly to the fabric of the robe.  
  
Buffy growled, her fingers clenching as if trying to close around an imaginary stake. "Some vampire took a bite out of my best friend? Who was it? Where is that vamp? When I get my hands on him, he is so dusted..."  
  
His mark on her throat... he remembered the taste of her blood, it still filled his dreams as he slept. Had he taken enough that she would die? But he had not given her any of his own blood, she would be truly gone if she died now! Could he finish turning her as he had intended? He felt a buzzing from the chip, a warning that he would not be able to grab the stunned woman and sink his teeth into her, would not be able to drink the last of her life and give her his own strength... The chip flared into white hot pain inside his head, throbbing agony that made him stagger.  
  
Reaching out, he brushed his fingertips over the back of her hand, his voice a ragged whisper. "Red..."  
  
Her body gave a small tremor, and when she lifted her head, her eyes focused on him, almost burning as if she were looking into the very depths of his being. Her soft lips moved, shaping a word so softly that even with his vampire hearing he barely caught it. "Spike..."  
  
Something flared inside of him, something painfully close to hope. She had called him Spike. Spike had been the name of someone in her own time, someone that she had spoken very little of, most likely the cheating ex lover that had found himself a werewolf. He had spent hours with the acid of jealousy burning him as he had imagined her with some other, some man who wouldn't appreciate her, wishing that he could find and slowly kill her faithless lover. He had come to Sunnydale, seeking the Gem of Amara, knowing that she had been here, hoping that he could find her, hoping that her ramblings of home would lead him to her. But she had been so much younger, not so much in years but in terms of pain and suffering. His Red had been a woman, aged by pain, and this town had held a lovely girl, reaching towards love with some musical werewolf. It had made his teeth itch, and he had wanted to howl in rage. How had things changed so much that his wondrous Red was not here, but instead there was a woman-child with her face? Someone who had never drank the bitter cup of pure despair? Was this really and truly HIS red in mind as well as body? He could smell the scent of their passion, smell her blood, and see the recognition in her eyes.  
  
She had been willing to become his for all time, a century ago, last night. Was it possible that she might still be willing to accept him, now that he was a crippled shell of his former might? Could she look past the chip and still accept what he would see? He had been aware that she had cared for him, that she'd had powerful and complex feelings, something that had gone beyond simple lust. Dare he hope that they were still there? That the changing years that had prevented the Willow the Slayer had lost from becoming his Red had not destroyed whatever it had been inside of him that she had found worthy of care? That she might not find the person that she had loved and choose him instead?  
  
William cradled her in his arms, feeling her body shake with deep sobs as her tears soaked into his shirt. She still had not said a single word that the others could hear, and they were shifting nervously behind him. He wasn't entirely certain what had her so horribly shaken, but he simply held her close, savoring her warmth and the scent of her. If she needed to cry, he would hold her.  
  
"It must have been something horrible that happened in that other place." Buffy's words disturbed the quiet of the room. "Look how much she's shaking. And some vampire tried to kill her, that bite will leave a scar. Poor Willow, the whole thing must have been a nightmare for her."  
  
"I think Willow is quite overwhelmed. We shouldn't try to pester her for answers right now. Let her rest... maybe she should just stay here, in the spare bedroom."  
  
Giles' voice had never sounded as good to William. His words were reasonable, and he clearly only wanted to help his Red. Maybe this one wouldn't have to die as soon as the blasted chip was removed. Maybe he would finally have a reason to stop his hunting of the Giles line. Maybe there was finally one worth allowing to live. He would have to see.  
  
He carried her to the spare room, tucking her tenderly into the bed, staying beside her until she had wept herself into a deep slumber. He traced the silvery tracks of her tears, feeling a deep sense of worry and something else, something painful inside. He hated to see her in such pain.  
  
"You don't look quite so puzzled as everyone else. Is there anything that you would care to mention to me?" Giles' voice came from the doorway, where the Watcher stood. His eyes were on William, noting the way his fingers had brushed over the lines of salt on her cheeks.  
  
Damn the man for being so observant. "Not in here. She needs her sleep. It's been a long day for her."  
  
"How much of this is from worrying that she'd changed the time-line and how much is from firsthand information?" Giles had waited until they had sat in his study, the other teens gone away for the night, and Jenny fussing with her magical supplies. But his question cut right to the heart of the matter.  
  
William was silent for a few moments, trying to organize his thoughts. "Let me see if I can explain this and have it make sense. It was eighteen hundred and eighty eight, in London. During the time of the Ripper. This... witch came out of nowhere, dressed oddly, and she seemed to know who I was, even though I'd never seen her before. Short red hair and green eyes. I had her help me look for Dru."  
  
"The psychic childe of Angelus?" Giles was curious, and it was obvious that he was trying to figure out how this connected to Willow.  
  
"The witch said her name was Willow Rosenberg. That she came from a hellmouth a century or so in the future, and a spell had flung her back in time. She knew a few things about me and my clan that told me that she had some good information, enough to make me thing she was telling the truth. We went looking for Dru. Back then, I thought that Dru was my everything, that I couldn't live without her. There were a few... complications. But we found Dru. She was... a bit distracted at the time with her new lover, Jack. Red and I left the building, and she burned it down around their ears." His words ground to a stop, the memories thick and choking.  
  
"Arthur Giles was one of those complications, wasn't he? So, the witch was Willow? But she doesn't have that sort of power, certainly not the control to burn down a building. Jenny has only taught her a few rather basic things." Giles sounded as if some things were becoming clear, and other things were even more confusing.  
  
William nodded. "He tried to kill her. But, we talked a bit about her past, the time that she was convince that she would have no way to return to. It sounded... it was a lot different. My Sire had been cursed with a soul by some gypsy clan, but it had broken and he'd rampaged over the hellmouth until Red gave it back to him. He'd tried to open Acathala. The Slayer that she knew had drowned briefly, and now there were two Slayers running around. She'd had some worthless boyfriend cheat on her and break her heart. Favorite teacher'd been killed, same with her fish. Lots of suffering and heartache. And her friends weren't helping her deal with her pain, so she'd tried a spell, and ended up landing in an alley."   
  
Giles stared at him, eyes wide. "Buffy... died? Two Slayers? A vampire with a soul? Dear God... it sounds horrifying."  
  
William shuddered, but couldn't disagree with him. "I know. One slayer at a time is enough trouble, but two? The Red that I met was on the edge of despair. She didn't care if she got herself killed when she got there, and she was utterly convinced that she didn't have anything waiting to go back to. Nobody who would miss her, nobody waiting to welcome her back."  
  
Sitting up with a look of indignation on his face, the words spilled from Giles. "Nobody that would miss her?!? But... didn't she have friends? How could someone as sweet as Willow not be missed?"  
  
With a small shrug and a wicked grin, William continued. "Near as I can tell, her friends then were the same friends she has now, you lot. But her boyfriend had cheated on her and left, the Slayer was to busy either moping about an ex or spending time with her new toy, and Xander was off with his girl having sex. Seems that nobody was there when she had her heart broken, so she figured if they didn't care when she ws there, why would they care when she was gone?"  
  
"That's... that's terrible. Rather accurate for Anya and Xander, but still... I can't imagine someone not trying to offer some support for her." Giles shook his head, reaching for a cup of tea to keep his hands occupied.  
  
"Once she ended up in London, she had me. Granted, it didn't start of nice and sweet, but... ended up that she was there for me, and I was there for her. I can still remember it, watching the building where Dru and Jack were. Turned it into this towering inferno of green flames... they didn't roar, or crackle, they screamed. Howled like something in pain. We... I guess you could say we bonded over whiskey and tears after that one." William's voice was low as he focused on his memories.  
  
Giles gasped. "Green fire that howled and screamed? That was Willow? That made the Watcher's chronicles, scared half the London Watchers almost to death if I recall the records correctly. The amount of power... and it was perfectly contained. Some of the Watcher mages spent weeks trying to find the person or demon responsible. She had that much power and control? Our Willow?"  
  
"That was my Red. I kept her with me, helped her learn. We spent time trying to help improve her Greek... something about a bad translation of something. I was going to turn her..." He remembered his plans, They would have become the undisputed rulers of London, unstoppable. She would have been with him, beside him, supporting him, his lover, his Childe, his Queen.  
  
"What happened?" Giles was almost uncertain that he wanted to know the answer, but he had to ask.  
  
William looked at him, his eyes flickering feral and harsh as he growled his answer. "You. You cast that damn spell to drag her away from me, and she was gone. You have no idea how furious I was... She was certain that there was nothing for her to go back to, so she was going to stay, we would be happy. She would be part of my family, my mate. Then she was gone."  
  
Understanding suddenly filled Giles mind. "Your promise... it was to turn her? So the bite on her neck... that was from you. You were that close to turning her, to making her into a vampire."  
  
"Yes. She would have been mine, and we would have ruled London. But you took her away. And because of this damn chip, I can't even keep my promise now. But I can still be there for her, if she'll let me." William's voice was almost a growl, and his words weren't for Giles.  
  
"You care for her. This isn't about some words you said over a century ago, you... you really care about her." Giles was staring at the vampire with an expression of awe and shock.  
  
"Of course I care. Who wouldn't care about her once they got to know her? I just hope... She had to have seen something in me to have been so willing to let me turn her. I hope that it's still there." He shook his head, as if to push back the emotions, hide them from the Watcher.  
  
Giles shook his head, wondering if William was truly so different from other vampires, or if the Watchers had been wrong all the years that they had insisted that vampires didn't feel. "I just want her to be happy. Of course, I would also prefer if her happiness didn't involve the rest of us dying."  
  
William just sat there, pondering his Willow, hoping that there could still be something. Hoping that she would still want his company, hoping that the person in her own time that she had loved wouldn't steal her away. Hoping that she cared for him even half as much as he cared for her.  
  
end part 23  
  
Willow felt herself awaken. She was on a bed, but it felt unfamiliar to her. She had a large robe sort of on her, and there was a bandage over her throat where William had bitten her. Remembering the feeling of magic tearing her away from him, she gave a small frown. It had felt like Giles... which should mean that this was Sunnydale. But, why would anyone have bothered to bring her back? Who would have missed her that badly? She wished for a long moment that she had stayed in the eighteen hundreds with William before resigning herself to the fact that that hadn't happened. She wasn't then anymore, so all she could do would be find out where she was, and how much she had changed the course of history.  
  
Cracking her eye open, she noticed sunlight streaming in through the window, showing a nicely furnished bedroom and an electric lamp and digital clock. For a moment, she looked at the glowing red numbers, her mind refusing to process them. Clearly, she was back in or near the time that she had left, although she had never seen the room before in her life. She didn't feel any danger, so she shifted her weight, rolling so that she could see the rest of the room. Pale green and cream striped wallpaper, green comforter, oak furniture... It was a nice room. She could only picture it belonging to Giles, but how much had changed?  
  
Sitting up a bit, she noticed a duffel bag just inside the door, and a pair of almost familiar shoes sitting on top of it. They reminded her of a pair that she'd had, before they had been melted by some caustic slimy demon. But, if history had been altered, maybe they were her shoes, never melted in this new timeline. Carefully, she slipped out of the bed, her head spinning. The bag proved to have clothing in her size, underwear, some loose fitting jeans, a tee shirt and a large fluffy sweater in golds and oranges. Willow winced, she didn't remember dressing like that for well over a year. Considering that the alternative was to remain naked, she got dressed, drawing the line at the fluffy sweater. Her head was still spinning, so she softly chanted the healing spell, not wanting to face a new time with her head already spinning. Wishing once more that William was still with her, she opened the door to go forth and find out exactly what was going on.  
  
Cautiously, she looked outside the room, noting that she was in a hallway, and there was a staircase to the left. Walking down the stairs, it dawned on her that this was the house that Giles had lived in before Jenny had died. Apparently, someone that she knew still lived here. Glancing around the large hall at the bottom of the stairs, she saw a rack of weapons, carefully polished and gleaming, and shelves of books on demons and prophecies. This had to be the house of a watcher. Too much sunshine for a vampire.  
  
"Good morning Willow, I'm glad to see that you're awake. Blueberry pancakes?" A voice came from the kitchen, a woman's voice, cheerful and hauntingly familiar.  
  
Turning, Willow wondered how she could have heard the voice that she thought she had heard. Her eyes got wide and she could feel herself growing pale as she looked into the kitchen. Jenny Calendar stood there, a smudge of flour on one cheek, her dark hair pulled into a loose ponytail, and her bare toes peeked out of a pair of worn blue jeans.  
  
"Miss Calendar? Is this your house?" Willow's voice was very faint.  
  
"Willow, dear, are you feeling alright? I haven't been Miss Calendar for almost two years, you were one of my bridesmaids at the wedding. Rupert and I live here, remember? How about some of those pancakes?"  
  
It took her a few moments to make sense of the words, and it was compounded by the fact that they almost seemed to be echoing from somewhere far away. Blinking a few moments as she considered everything, she nodded slowly. "Pancakes sound good."  
  
She was sitting there, contentedly eating some of the most delicious pancakes that she could remember when Buffy and Xander arrived. They looked so young, and Buffy's eyes held a sparkle that Willow couldn't remember seeing since... not since before Angelus. She wondered how their lives went.  
  
"Willow!" Buffy's delighted cry was the only warning that she had before she was seized in a Slayer-strength hug.  
  
"Oh man, Wills, I've missed you so much. I know you've been upset since Oz died, but... how did you end up sucked out of this century?" Xander's voice was slightly muffled as he joined into the hug.  
  
Willow just stood there, wondering exactly what sort of bizarre world she had woken up in. Jenny was alive, and married to Giles? Oz was dead? What else had changed? She could think of only one way to find out.  
  
"umm... guys, I've... it's been a long time since I've seen you. But... some things seem a bit... off from how I remember. Can you catch me up with... umm, everything? From the beginning?"  
  
Xander looked at her, his grin faltering a bit. "Everything? Starting from where? When did you cut your hair?"  
  
Buffy looked at her, her eyes misty with tears. "I am so glad to have you back. Life without you has been just horrible. We can go sit down and catch you up on everything from the beginning, just in case there were any of those pesky changed in the course of history that William and Anya were so worried about. But that has to be silly, right? I mean, what's different besides your hair?"  
  
Willow had that lightheaded spinning feeling again as she let Buffy and Xander lead her into Giles' living room where they proceeded to start telling her all about Sunnydale and everything that had happened since Buffy had moved there. As their story continued, Willow's eyes got wider and wider. Buffy had never been involved with Angel, so she'd never cost him his soul. Since he'd never become Angelus, he'd never killed Jenny, tormented Buffy, and she herself, or this timeline's Willow anyhow, hadn't started any serious study of magic until very recently, studying with Jenny. Their Willow only knew a few basic things, but she didn't have control problems. Oz had never cheated on her, nobody had any idea who Veruca was, and Oz had been killed by a drunk driver that had run a red light and rammed his van. William the Bloody had come into town their senior year, which Buffy had been part of, since she had never run away after Acathala. Nobody had tried to open the portal, and the demon-statue had simply been smashed. Jesse was still dead, Xander was still dating Anya, and Buffy had recently become involved with Riley. William had been chipped, and tried to attack her on the way from the Bronze, but due to the chip from the initiative, he'd failed to actually bite her. He'd helped avert the Ascension, which had been accomplished without blowing up the school. He helped them, in exchange for Buffy not attacking him and the Scoobies helped him get blood.  
  
So many things were very different. But at the same time, a lot of things were the same, some of them the most incredibly odd things. Anya had still been a Vengeance demon called by Cordelia to punish an unfaithful boyfriend, but that boyfriend had been Percy. Oz had still broken Willow's heart, but this time it was by dying, not by having an affair and leaving town. Buffy was still involved with Riley. Her parents were still in the running for Sunnydale's most emotionally neglectful. It was actually a bit freaky.  
  
  
  
Frowning, she wondered how much of William's recent history had changed, and how much had managed to stay the same. Parent Teacher night? The Order of Taraka? Buffy'd mentioned the Gem of Amara and the Initiative chip, but what about the Anointed One? She would have to ask him later. Still turning over her thoughts about how much was the same and how much had changed, she looked at her friends, marveling that they looked so much younger and more innocent that she remembered them. "This... it's a lot to think about. There are some... discrepancies. I remember Principal Snyder getting... umm, a demon killed him. And... someone tried to open Acathala."  
  
"Goodness, some of those sound quite significant, Willow." Giles was in the doorway, looking at her with a worried expression, and a bit of something else around his eyes, a hint of pain and worry that reminded Willow of her own Giles.  
  
She blushed a bit and shrugged, not quite ready to get into explaining the details of the changes. "It's a lot to think about. Some of the changes are pretty big... Oz wasn't dead before my trip through time. Others things stayed weirdly close, like Xander and Anya."  
  
end part 24. 


	5. parts 25 to 29 the end

Willow was still sitting curled on the end of Giles couch as the sun set, and registered Buffy's perky sounding voice as she headed out for her patrol. She barely even thought about it before she spoke to Giles. "Do you think Riley is in the Initiative in this timeline as well? Considering all the trouble that led to in the first time line…"  
  
Giles murmured something about tea, and moved into the kitchen where he rattled a few things in the cupboard as he searched for cups. Giles was most likely wondering about those discrepancies in the timeline, and possibly curious about any possible foreknowledge of dangers that Willow might possess. For now, he seemed to be content to let Willow think about things, and adjust to her return to the modern era.  
  
"Anyone still here? The daft Slayer seems to have it in for the shrubbery in the park..." William's voice filled the room as he confidently strode into Giles' house. Moving a few more feet forward, he noticed Willow and stopped, a soft whisper coming from his lips. "Red..."  
  
Looking over, Willow smiled. He looked so much like the Spike that she remembered, and at the same time, so much like William. But it had been over a century for him. What if she was no longer of any interest to him? "Hey there. Want to sit? I have to admit I have a few questions... everyone else's life seems to have been changed. I'm curious how things have been for you in the... new timeline. Sunnydale version two point oh...."  
  
He seemed a bit surprised at her question, and looked just a little bit awkward. "You... want to know what I've been up to for the past century. Anything in specific, or just a general short version?"  
  
She smiled slightly, and patted the couch near her. He had changed, his hair short and blond, his clothing different… how much was still the William that she had come to know? "I got the short version of the past few years from Buffy and Xander, but... there are a few things they didn't cover. Like the Annoying... um, the Anointed One, and if you were planning to take over Sunnydale and rule as it's Master. Not to be confused with the scary guy who was trapped in the cave... and Buffy assured me that he was dead and wouldn't be bothering me any more. Apparently, their Willow had nightmares about him."  
  
William grimaced at the mention of the Annoying One. "That arrogant little brat... He was trouble from the beginning. Showed up and there's this little twerp who hasn't even been dead as long as he was alive trying to run things in a manner that's been outdated for centuries. Ran him up into the sunshine... I haven't got as much respect for the whole foretold importance thing. I hadn't come here to rule the city, I came for the Gem... and for you. But the Willow that was here wasn't the Willow I remembered."  
  
Willow sighed, looking at her fingers. "They all seem so young... but they're the same ages that they were before. But some of the things that I remember... they didn't happen here. Or they left them out because they didn't want to scare their little willow-shaped friend. Did Angelus... did he ever get a soul in this new timeline? Did I manage to cause that to get changed?"  
  
"No, he didn't get souled. I remembered that you'd mentioned evil gypsy curses, and warned him about it. So, no soul for my Sire. He played a bit of a game with them, managed to get the Slayer to take out Darla and the Master, but then he left. I think he's in LA now. He's adopted a lower profile policy than he used a century ago." Glancing at her, Spike looked as if he was a bit concerned about something.  
  
Willow sighed and settled a bit closer to the back of the couch. "I guess... that sort of proves how trials help you grow. In my... the original timeline, he killed the gypsy girl, got souled, came to Sunnydale, had this thing with Buffy... which made him loose his soul, and then he went on this rampage and tried to open up Acathala to suck the world into hell. I really can't figure that one out. He killed people that we knew, and tried to break Buffy. That was when I started using magic... But none of that happened this time. So, Buffy never sent her boyfriend to Hell, I... their Willow was never responsible for teaching a class in high school, and wasn't the powerful witch to help the Slayer. Everything is different... except that some things stayed the same, and somehow, that made a lot more sense in my head..."  
  
"Angelus tried to open Acathala? That explains the nightmares..." Giles voice came from the left, reminding Willow that she was not alone in the house with Spike.  
  
"Yes... he tried. Of course, he didn't know how to open it at first, so he... kidnapped someone to question. Buffy closed the portal. It's... it's nice to see everyone so much happier in this timeline." She felt tears pricking in her eyes as she looked at Giles. He'd always felt like a father to her, and it was good to finally see him happy as well.  
  
"How much magic do you know, since you seem to... not be the Willow that we lost. Who was your teacher?" Giles seemed to have decided to move away from the topic of Angelus.  
  
Willow sighed, looking away from Giles face. "I didn't have a proper teacher. Nobody was guiding my magical education, most of it was self taught, and you helped me out some, helping me work on some bindings. I also had to help with a few rituals that required two casters. I still need to work on my Greek."  
  
"Why would you need to be the second caster? Jenny is very skilled with magic, and I know enough to assist her with most rituals..." Giles voice started with a bit of confusion before trailing into silence as the ugly realization dawned. "Jenny... wasn't with us anymore in your timeline, was she?"  
  
"No. She... she wasn't with us anymore. She loved you in my timeline as well, if that's any consolation?" Willow could feel the tears trying to prickle at her eyes.  
  
Giles gave a small... well, it technically was a smile, but there wasn't any happiness to it. "I think I'll just go back to re-shelving my books on magical retrieval now. I'm not sure I want to know any more differences between this timeline and the one you remember."  
  
Willow watched him go with a heavy feeling in her stomach. "I'm not their Willow... and they won't like it. I've got a lot more... more pain, more things that I've been forced to learn how to manage. Buffy and Xander seem to think that I'm just confused from my trip, that everything will pass and I'll be the Willow they remember again... but she's not me."  
  
"If it helps, I won't be upset if you don't go back to their Red. She was nice, but... awfully timid, and hung up on that wolf. She had potential, but it was as if she was afraid to reach for it. That was the most frustrating thing... trying to encourage her to grow and watching her stay the same." He leaned back against the couch, his expression full of thoughts.  
  
"Did you kill your two Slayers?" Willow found herself asking the question, wondering how much he had remained or... still become of the Spike that she knew.  
  
"Three. And a lot of Watchers. I've been a big bad vampire." He was looking at her hand, not quite meeting her eyes. There was something in his voice, something that might have been uncertainty warring with pride.  
  
"Three Slayers? And a lot of Watchers... was the guy who shot us a Watcher then? Did that leave a scar for you?" Her eyes weren't quite focused, and her fingers were hovering over the place on his shoulder where he'd been shot, something that was rather recent for her.  
  
Spike looked at her, his eyes intense and full of so many tangled emotions that it made Willow's breath catch. "I still meant it. I still want you in my family... but right now... I got a chip in my head. I wouldn't be able... I can't bite humans anymore." His words had fallen in volume as he mentioned the chip and his inability to bite, falling to a whisper.  
  
"The chip... Buffy mentioned it." Willow gazed into his eyes, her heart hammering rapidly, full of hope and dismay and confusion. "So... things will just take a bit longer... a lot longer if you count in the century that I missed. Maybe we can use the time you have the chip to... I guess maybe date and get everyone else adjusted to the idea?"  
  
His eyes widened, and he sucked in a breath. "Are you asking me out? Movies on Fridays sort of thing?"  
  
Willow gave a small hopeful smile. "Yeah... although if you had to ask, I must not be doing a very good job of it."  
  
The spark burning in his eyes rivaled anything that Willow had seen. "I'd love to."  
  
end part 25.  
  
Giles had gone to the kitchen, his heart heavy with the knowledge that somehow, they had lost the carefree Willow that they had known. Instead, there was this Willow, one that carried sorrow and loss, and seemed to be in love with William the Bloody. She seemed older than the Willow they'd been so desperately searching for only a few days ago. But from the few things she'd said, her timeline had been much harsher. And in the timeline that this Willow remembered, his beloved Jenny was dead.  
  
Had this new Willow ever had someone that she loved? Their Willow had been with Oz, but it had been a gentle, tender relationship, not the overwhelming passion that he could see in William's eyes, that had been in the vampire's voice while Willow had slept. Now that he'd seen the two of them talking, he could see it in them both, William loved Willow, and for some reason known only to God, Willow loved William. He shivered a bit at the idea, quite certain that he didn't like it, and that he couldn't change it.  
  
The shy girl they had all known was gone, lost to them forever. He had no doubts that Buffy and Xander wouldn't realize this, that they would spend some time trying to 'help Willow get back to normal'. But perhaps this was normal for the new Willow. Had she always cared for William, or had that been some sort of strange side effect of her time travel? What would happen if... no, Giles knew what would happen if the chip in his head were ever removed or stopped working. He would turn Willow. And Buffy would never be able to bring herself to kill the vampire with her friend's face.  
  
Could this older, sadder Willow integrate with the others? Could she fit herself into their group? Giles could only wonder.  
  
In the other room, William held Willow on his lap, his chin resting on her head. He had her in his arms again, his fiery princess, and this time, he wasn't about to let anything take her away. Not the Slayer, not some other man, and not some watcher with a talent for magic. She was back with him, and he wanted it to stay that way. Forever.  
  
"I don't want to loose you again, Willow. It was... I didn't like it." His words were a soft murmur, barely loud enough for her to hear them.  
  
She went very still, and then moved just enough to look him in the eyes, a surprised and delighted look on her face. "You... this isn't just being upset that your plan didn't work, and it wasn't a loss of power thing, was it?"  
  
"No, it wasn't the power. It was you." His words were still quiet, as if he was afraid of anyone overhearing them. Being as they were essentially a confession of feeling, that Willow herself mattered more to him than power and ambition, it could be seen as quite a weakness.  
  
"Me? All of that... outrage and... frustration was because you didn't have me?" Her voice was soft, filled with amazement. "I've never mattered that much to anyone before..."  
  
He pulled her close, feeling her body relax against his, her breath warm against his body. "It was all for you. You matter that much, more than I can put into words."  
  
"And... you matter to me. A lot, that's why I was happy that you wanted me with you forever. Which is why I don't plan to give you up." Her voice was soft, filled with warmth and happiness.  
  
His fingers began to play with her hair, twisting the short locks around the tips of his fingers. "I think... part of me was... concerned that you only agreed to be mine because you had nobody else. That I was your alternative to being alone."  
  
Willow sighed, and put her hand on his cheek. "I would never agree to spend eternity with someone that I didn't care about."  
  
He smiled, feeling something inside go warm and happy and fluttery at her words. "So, we both... care. Maybe more than we're willing to admit. And you want to be with me. So, what sort of things do people do when they date?"  
  
"hmm... movies, sometimes picnics, nice romantic walks... And then there's the club date, which I remember being a favorite of Buffy's and a bit crowded and noisy for my tastes. And of course, we tell our various friends and relatives that we're involved so that they don't walk in on us and freak out." She was running her fingers over the small scar over his eyebrow, part of her amazed that there was a scar that hadn't been there what felt like yesterday.  
  
"Dating? Is that... is that all we'll be doing?" His voice had dropped, and there were amber flecks in his eyes. One finger reached out, brushing her cheek softly, stirring memories of more passionate moments.  
  
With a look of pure mischief, Willow smiled. "That's all we'll tell them we're doing. They don't need to know all of our details."  
  
"Devious of you, princess. I like it. But... there might be a few small details about the telling people part. Fluffy will throw a fit, and the Watcher's observant enough that he'll figure out if we're up to a bit more than movies. Then there's the fact that the person I should tell is Angelus..."  
  
"Giles won't spend much time thinking about what else we might be doing. He won't want to know anything other than am I safe and happy. I can handle Buffy and any fits that she might throw. As for Angelus... umm... is he sane? Because the Angelus that showed up in... the other Sunnydale, I guess, wasn't very sane. He tried to suck the world into hell."  
  
William laughed, his eyes sparkling. "He's sane. Having a few issues with some evil law firm that I don't know the details of, but sane. At least as sane as he ever was anyhow."  
  
"Then there's no problems. I'll just have to figure out a way to explain our 'sudden decision to date' in a way that shouldn't cause Buffy to flip." She was smiling, happy and confident that this time, she would finally have a chance to be happy.  
  
end part 26.  
  
William was feeling remarkably good the next afternoon. He'd talked with Willow, HIS Willow, and she still wanted him. They would date, and she would tell everyone that she wanted to be with him. He could just imagine how much it would upset the Slayer, and the images made him smile. But that also reminded him. He needed to tell his family, to tell Angelus.  
  
"Giles? Mind if I use your phone? I need to make a call." It was obvious that he was a bit distracted from his tone.  
  
William was dimly aware of the man looking at him, a slightly puzzled expression in place. "Who do you need to call, and why? Is it a local call?"  
  
William made a dismissive gesture, as if waving the idea away. "Nahh... I need to call Angelus. Got to tell him about me and Red, considering. She's going to be part of the family, so tradition demands that I tell my Sire and all that. Besides, he's been awfully interested in my red witch for the past century."  
  
Giles sat up, recognizing the name easily. "What interest would the Scourge of Europe have in Willow?  
  
William was in the middle of lighting a cigarette, figuring that he would have time while explaining to Giles why he had to tell his Sire. "See, the red I met wasn't the girl the Slayer was pals with, she was this one. From the other time, all sad and miserable. And she said something about a pack of gypsies cursing him with a soul. It was some sort of revenge for eating a gypsy girl, I think. But that red told me, and I told him, and he didn't eat the gypsy girl. Which is a good thing, because if he had, if things had turned out the way her timeline did, he'd have been here, all snuggled up and nauseatingly wrapped up in your Slayer. At least, until the curse snapped and he turned into a rampaging evil bastard that decided to open Acathala. Besides, I told him how she would be in the family some day. He's curious."  
  
"Acathala... But why... well, you did say an insane version. This is... are you saying that this is the vampire version of telling your father that you've met the girl you plan to marry?" Giles sounded somewhere between worried and amazed.  
  
Blowing a small ring of smoke, William nodded. "That sums it up. Sire, this is my Willow, I want her to join the family and be my mate for the rest of forever... yeah."  
  
Giles sighed, resting his head in his hands. "Go ahead and call him. I'd prefer if he didn't drop in for a visit though..."  
  
"Right. Since I think he's got his hands full where he is, that shouldn't be a problem." William picked up the phone, dialing slowly in an effort to remember the seldom used numbers.  
  
"Yes, I need to talk to Angelus." Spike was talking into the phone, a small frown on his face. "Fine, Angel if you prefer. Tall guy, dark hair, a bit glowery? Put him on the phone."  
  
"Sire... I've got her back. My Willow. The one from London, not the slayer's little friend."  
  
"Of course she changed time! You aren't... sorry. She changed a lot. Some of it big, some of it smaller. But this is my princess, and I'm keeping her this time. So I'm being the dutiful childe and letting you know."  
  
"I'm sure she'll understand about that. I can't bring her over yet anyhow, still got that damn chip. She's got a plan to work on that, but I'm not sure what it is yet. Anyhow, this will give me a chance to finish teaching her the traditions." There was a clearly fond tone to Spike's voice as he talked about Willow.  
  
"Right... be careful. I still want an official blessing at some point, so don't go getting yourself killed on me." William hung up the phone with a small smile, one that clearly said he was thinking of his Willow.  
  
Giles cleared his throat, catching the vampire's attention. "Willow is like family to me. If you break her heart, I will torture you slowly. To the melodious sounds of... the Backstreet Boys."  
  
William shuddered, looking at Giles with a mix of horror and respect. "That's... that's vicious. But I don't plan to break her heart. Ever."  
  
"Then that will never become an issue. I would hate to have to borrow Buffy's CD's."  
  
end part 27.  
  
William was still sitting there, a smile that managed to be smug and entirely delighted on his face. He was still sitting there when Willow arrived, her expression one of annoyance. "Red? Is something wrong?"  
  
"Not really. I just decided that the wardrobe that I had was lacking, and had to go shopping, which wasn't particularly delightful. Yes, I picked up The Outfit. I remember how much you liked it. I also got rid of quite a number of things that I can't picture myself ever wearing..." Willow settled herself into a seat at the table, her outfit not quite the same as the Willow that had been with the scoobies before, but not radically different. She wore green jeans, but they fit her well, showing her long legs. The sweater was a nubbly texture, but not baggy, and it's blue and green pattern harmonized with the color of her jeans.   
  
"I'm glad there's nothing seriously wrong then, luv. I called my Sire, he's delighted that I found you, and send his regrets that he can't come and met you for himself, but he's up to his ears in evil lawyers. I told him you wouldn't be insulted." William had a small grin, and a few amber flecks in his eyes, possibly from imagining The Outfit, which was what he'd come to call the image of the leather that Willow's vampire double had worn, the illusion of which had seemed most shocking in the eighteen hundreds.  
  
Willow smiled at him, her fingers wrapping around the warmth of the teacup Giles had given her. "I'm not offended, really. I'm still not sure you didn't umm... over credit me with stuff, but... I'm glad we have your Sire's approval."  
  
Then, she looked over at Giles, a small look on her face as Willow tried to remember. "umm, Giles? Miss... umm, sorry, Jenny? Did I remember to mention to you that S… William and I have decided to date?"  
  
Giles cleared his throat, clearly not precisely comfortable with the idea. "I heard the two of you discussing it last night. I am aware of your plans to... date William. I just... please make certain that this is what you want, and if he will make you happy, then I will be happy for you."  
  
Jenny gave a tiny smile. "I want you to be happy, Willow. I'm a bit worried that it might be a bit close to the... end of things with Oz, but... If the vampire can make you happy, go for it. And if he makes you cry, I'll do something horrible to him."  
  
Willow gave a delighted smile. "So this is what it feels like to have parents... I like it. Now, we just have to break it to Buffy and Xander and Anya... who will probably ask if he gives me good orgasms."  
  
Giles got a distressed look on his face. "Please... Willow, if we do fit the parent feeling for you at all, have mercy on us and do not answer that question."  
  
Willow started to giggle, and ended up collapsed on the table, laughing so hard that the tears were rolling down her face. William had joined in, also amused, and eventually, even Giles and Jenny were laughing.  
  
That was the moment that Buffy, Xander and Anya arrived, Buffy in the middle of a sentence about Willow. "... all I'm saying is that she's got to be all freaked by Oz. He died, and that's got to be hard for her to deal with, considering that they were dating and everything. So, she's probably going to be all..." Buffy's words were cut off by Anya's elbow, timed to coincide with her cheerful sounding greeting.  
  
"Hello Willow. You certainly... don't seem to be crying your eyes out over Ox... I mean Oz."  
  
"No, definitely no more tears over Oz. I've moved past that stage in my life. But... umm, you might want to sit down. I have something to tell you." Willow was trying to reign in her laughter.  
  
She waited until Buffy and Xander had both sat down, and Anya was leaning against the wall before speaking. "I had... a very interesting time while I was... away from Sunnydale. It gave me time to do a lot of thinking, and move past some of the pain that I ended up taking with me. And... ummm, William and I are going to date now. Each other, as in Willow-and-William."  
  
Xander's face turned a sort of pale greyish color, and he gaped for a few moments, looking as if he was trying to form words, but failing to add any sound to them. Buffy was not so hindered.  
  
"Him!?! You want to date WILLIAM! What in the world are you thinking? He's William! He's a vampire that tried to kill us all! He's evil, how many times has he said that he's evil? And we have no idea what sort of psycho promise thingy he thinks he has with you! He could kill you as soon as that chip fails! He's... he's... William!" Buffy's face was red, and she looked incredibly upset.  
  
Willow looked at Buffy, and her eyes had gone cold and dark. Her voice was low and angry. "What am I thinking? Well, first, I'm thinking that this is MY life, and I can date whoever I choose. If I want to date William, I can date William. If I wanted to date Cordelia's ex Percy West, which I don't, I could do that, and it would not be your choice, or decision. If I wanted to decide that I'm bisexual, and find some chippie on campus to have an affair with, you couldn't do a single thing about it! As it happens, I want to date William, and William wants to date me. Did anyone ask me before you got into your relationships? No, because I sure as hell would have told you to stay away from Parker. Did you ask before you got involved with Riley? Again, no. Xander didn't ask before he got together with Anya. My life, my dating choices. Deal with it."  
  
Xander finally rediscovered his voice. "But he's William. What if the chip... what if he decides to hurt you? And why William? He's... vampire, evil, tried to kill us, remember?"  
  
Willow looked at Xander, her eyes not nearly as angry as when she'd faced Buffy. "I know he's a vampire. I remember about the tried to kill us parts. He won't hurt me, and... because I want him."  
  
Anya looked at Buffy, and smirked a moment before looking back at Willow. "He's quite attractive. And considering that he's a vampire, he should have quite a bit of stamina. Have you had orgasms together yet?"  
  
Willow tried not to smile at the tiny moan that Giles made. "Anya... we only decided to date last night, and then I went home to my parents' house while he... did not go to my parents house. I only got here a few minutes before the rest of you, so... when was there time?"  
  
"Thank God... I do not want to hear... ever..." Giles low murmur was barely audible.  
  
Buffy glared at William, as if she was convinced that this unexpected development was all his fault. "I do not like this one bit. He's evil. He's a vampire, he doesn't know how to have a healthy relationship. You'll only get hurt."  
  
Xander just looked at her, his expression still stunned. "William? I mean... William? Are you really... but he's... William the Bloody. Part of the Scourge of Europe."  
  
Willow sighed, patting his hand gently. "Yes, me and William. Yes, I'm sure I want to be with him. He's not plotting to kill us all in our sleep, and yes, I really do plan to date him."  
  
Anya smiled, her expression full of optimism. "Well, this means that you're not going to be crying all the time about Oz and him being dead, right? Instead, William will be giving you orgasms and keeping you very happy?"  
  
Willow snickered. "Anya, I promised Giles that I would never talk about William and orgasms in front of him. But no, I will NOT be crying over Oz anymore. WIlliam and I plan to be happy. And now, I can say no more... sorry, random Beatles quote."  
  
Buffy glared at William before stalking towards the door, her voice floating back to them. "I'm going on patrol."  
  
"I don't think she's very happy about this, luv." William's voice was tinted with amusement, and he draped his arm around her.  
  
Willow leaned back against him, sighing. "Well, that's too bad. This isn't about her, it's about me, about you. Us. This is about me wanting to be happy. She'll come around, or she won't."  
  
"Is... is it okay if it takes me a while to get used to this?" Xander's voice sounded almost lost.  
  
Willow gave him a tired smile. "I suppose that's... inevitable. But don't try to tell me that I can't.  
  
"Right... because you can... date anyone you want. But... he is going to take a while to get used to." Xander didn't look so gray now, but he was definitely still adjusting to the idea.  
  
Anya towed Xander away to the library, murmuring something that Willow suspected she didn't want to know about. She was left leaning against William in Giles and Jenny's kitchen. With a small smile, she looked up.  
  
"That went better than I'd expected."  
  
end part 28.  
  
Buffy was most clearly not happy with Willow's decision. But she couldn't argue that Parker had been a terrible mistake, or that it wasn't her choice who Willow dated. Instead, she kept making little comments intended to remind Willow just how dangerous William had been, of all the terrible things he'd done, even throwing in his systematic hunting of the Giles family. She also kept pointing out cute guys all over the campus, in the hope that Willow would decide that she liked one of them better, and ditch William for someone alive.  
  
Not that Willow had any intention of letting her Spike go. It had taken her a lifetime to find someone that she wanted that also wanted her. The simple fact that he was a vampire that had left a bloody trail of destruction and wanted to turn her and keep her with him for eternity wasn't a problem for her. He didn't do that anymore, she was also certain that she could think of better ways for him to occupy his time than attempting to unleash some demon. Maybe take power over a city or two. Maybe take... well, hadn't it been over a century for him since they'd been together?  
  
William had made a promise that he wanted her with him, to be his mate. Eventually, his childe, but they would have to figure out something to do with the chip before that could happen. So, he was forced to be with her as she was, mortal and warm and breathing. He really didn't seem to mind.  
  
Xander was coping with her 'sudden' decision fairly well. He'd told her several times that he didn't understand what she saw in William the Bloody evil vampire, but he hadn't tried to talk her out of it. He'd even promised her to make an effort to be nicer to William, just for her sake. The end result was that he was actually talking a good deal less to William, but it was fairly civil.  
  
Anya had noticed the changes, as clearly as Giles. She'd been watching Willow, and found her one afternoon, sitting under a tree and gazing out at Sunnydale. "You aren't their sweet Willow anymore, are you? Things... your trip changed you."  
  
Willow hadn't even had to look to know Anya would have an expression that said 'I told them so'. "My trip changed a lot. I changed history... not just a sort of general change, but I can see it all around me. They aren't the same as I remember..."  
  
"So you remember the way time and history was before your trip? Does that mean you have to guess what happened here?" Anya sounded almost curious.  
  
Willow patted the ground in a suggestion that Anya sit. "It isn't quite like that. I remember my own timeline, and that's what feels real to me, but... there are these sort of memories of the new timeline. They have the details, but... it's like the emotions are a step removed, if that makes sense?"  
  
Anya looked around, noticing their relative privacy. "So... are you and William having orgasms? When did you go? What does he have to say about that bite mark you had on your neck?"  
  
"His comment about the bite had to do with timing... and since it's his, why should he be further upset than he already was about not getting to turn me? I ended up in London, in eighteen eighty eight, during the time of Jack the Ripper, and it was a lot colder there than it is here! As for the other question... we aren't having orgasms at this exact moment. I'm here, and he's asleep right now. But yes, the sex is wonderful, and he does have a lot of stamina. But I promised Giles no details in front of him."  
  
Anya made a delighted noise. "I knew it! I knew he would be good for orgasms! He has that sort of manly sexual look... But... if you're from the other time, how well are you going to fit in this one?"  
  
"As best I can. I still know who everyone is... but this... it feels like the light version, cleaned up for timid children, if that makes sense. The world won't be any problem, but Buffy... and Xander will both need some time to adjust to the new Willow. And the fact that the new Willow is dating Spike." The amusement was clear.  
  
"Were you dating William before? In the old timeline?" Anya's voice held curiosity.  
  
Willow gave a small smile. "No. I had this crush on him, but... He was all wrapped up in Dru. We got involved in London, while I was away. It was... a lot more than just sex."  
  
"What happens now? He can't bite anymore... and Buffy doesn't trust him." Anya was watching Willow with curiosity.  
  
Willow gave a small, sad smile. "I know, the chip won't let him keep his promise. But we can find a way to get it out. I will find a way. Then, I'll be part of his family, and have someone to be with forever. But we aren't planning on the whole take over and go on a slaughtering bloodbath. Nothing against Buffy either. We just... we want to be happy together. And we will be."  
  
"You plan to let him turn you." Anya's voice held surprise and just a hint of worry. "What will happen then? To us, to my Xander?"  
  
Willow gave Anya a reassuring smile. "Nothing... not because of me anyhow. Xander has always been like family to me, and you make him happy. Giles and Jenny, they're like the parents that I wish I had, so they're safe. As for Buffy... she's been a little scarcer lately. It's sort of like she doesn't know if she can trust me now that I'm dating Spike... and Buffy and Xander don't need to know about the orgasms. I really don't think they're ready to consider that."  
  
Anya nodded, her centuries as a Vengeance Demon giving her a different perspective on the whole becoming non-human concept. "It's good to have family."  
  
"Better to have family and love." Willow had a smile now, one filled with happiness. "I've had to travel through time and change history to get it, but I finally have a family and someone to love, and I'm not about to let that go."  
  
"Yes... although I've found the whole human thing a bit tricky, I'm happier now that I have Xander than I was as a demon." Anya's voice made it clear that she understood Willow entirely.  
  
The two of them sat there, watching the people go about their days. Both content with the lives they had now, and delighted in their loves. The possibility of a friendship with Anya, something Willow had never expected before, only made things look better.  
  
end part 29. End Ripping Through Time. 


End file.
